


Deadly Voice

by TheJokersEnigma



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Suicide Squad (2016)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-05
Updated: 2017-12-24
Packaged: 2018-09-15 02:03:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 51
Words: 164,540
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9214172
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheJokersEnigma/pseuds/TheJokersEnigma
Summary: Joker x Reader. The Reader is employed by the Joker as a singer and has just destroyed one of his clubs. She now seeks shelter from the consequences only to start working for another major criminal - the Penguin. The Joker isn't far behind however and has a way of turning up wherever the Reader is, those he no longer seems intent on killing her...(Sorry im really bad at summaries - especially as I don't even know where I'm going with this story!)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry guys - this is my first story so I have no idea if its any good, or even if I should continue to write it.  
> I also am not entirely sure where I am going with it as I only have a vague starting point and not much of a plot - so let me know! I really appreciate any comments on it good or bad!

I took a deep breath as I stood in my coat outside the back door of the club. This wasn’t me, but I couldn’t stand this anymore. This was unfair and he couldn’t just do it and get away with it. He had to pay – even if it hurt me.  
My exhale of breath steamed and swirled before me in the cold night air and I quickly pushed open the heavy black door that led to a corridor only dimly lit by the faint glow of the lights above.  
I walked through the familiar grubby dark corridor to the back stage area where my dressing room was and pushed my door open.  
It was a basic room – a wardrobe, dressing table, stool and a comfy sofa. No windows - it was practically a cupboard by I didn’t mind. I didn’t need anything else.  
I threw myself down on my sofa and stared at myself vacantly in the mirror – I looked exhausted and stressed at the moment – but that was nothing that good bit of acting and a little makeup wouldn’t fix.  
I placed my head in my hands and scrubbed my face with my palms. Usually I would have napped earlier today to get myself ready for the long night of working but I instead had chosen to visit the club earlier to set things up when it was quiet and I would be lucky if I saw anyone.  
I had only bumped into one cleaner who didn’t give me a second glance when I told them I was just prepping the sound system (even if it wasn’t my job).  
It had always felt weird to wander around the building when it was empty and silent, it felt like the club itself was sleeping and each groan of the floor board made me feel like I was waking it and sent a bit of guilt through me.  
But it was done. I did what I had to do and it was all set up.  
I hadn’t told anyone else what I had planned – I didn’t want anyone else to be dragged down with me if this didn’t work and/or I got caught.  
I stopped scrubbing my face and grimaced at myself in the mirror. It was time to get to work – maybe for the last time. God I hoped this worked.  
If it didn’t I was dead.  
If it did… Well who knows, maybe I’d still end up dead, but a happier dead. I certainly didn’t have much of plan. I needed to at least leave this part of town - if not the city. Though I felt saddened at this thought as I now weirdly loved Gotham, even if it was a dirty crime-ridden city, it had been my home for so long. Everything I was proud of had happened here and I felt I owed the city a bit.  
I had no idea where I planned to go after this or what I was going to do but I figured I would work on that once I knew for certain this was actually going to work. It was time to move on from this. My life here was gone now.  
I knew this was a long shot but I had to take it – it was too painful to stay this way.

 

I shook myself out of my thoughts and tried to focus on getting ready. I applied my usual makeup – I never went too overboard– simple mascara, foundation, subtle eye shadow and some deep lipstick. I’d never been a huge fan of makeup, and never use to put any effort into my look – but I knew this job required it and it helped me feel a little less like me and a little bit more of that confident stranger.  
Once I had applied my mask of makeup I took off my coat to reveal my dress for the evening. It was deep red and long, but I stood no risk of stepping on it if things turned a tad wrong and I would need to run for it.  
I slipped into my shoes, heels obviously, but not ridiculously high for tonight. Again I had factored in practicality and was focusing on the possibility of needing a quick exit – plus they took nothing away from the outfit.  
I observed myself in the mirror I would never say I look sexy or desirable, but I know when I look prettier than usual, and hell I usually I didn’t bother to even try to look nice. I was dressed for the night and I could feel it was going to be a long one.

I stood up straight, lifted my shoulders – ‘you can do this Y/N – all you need to do is follow the plan, don’t over think it, don’t question it, don’t think too far in advance. Take it one step at a time.’ I thought to myself trying to give myself a pep talk. I let a gush of air out and strode out my room, grabbing my device on the way.  
I push my way through a door that led to the side of the stage. Now I could hear the pounding beat of the music and the noise of everyone else enjoying the night. The act before me was still on the stage. It was a group of 5 girl dancers each in short, thin dresses trying their best to entertain.  
Standing waiting on the sidelines was agony as I tried to not let myself think too much about what was going to happen later. I couldn’t sit still and I wrapped my arms around my stomach to try to still the butterflies that seemed to be having a field day. I kept taking deep breaths – coaching myself as if I was I labour – ‘in, out Y/N just keep breathing, in, out.’

The girls eventually finished and were skipping and tiptoeing their way to the side of the stage where I was waiting. There had been a smattering of applause but most people didn’t really care, were too focused on the music, their drink or their partner at the moment.  
I felt bad for them – they always tried hard and it had never use to be like that, but things had changed and it broke my heart a bit to see their smiles drop once they were out of sight of the audience.  
Once they saw me they smiled at me as if everything was fine and I gave them a sad smile in return – they were really nice, a bit too naïve and innocent, but sweet. And although it was nice to see the ignorant bliss it didn’t belong here anymore. Now you had to know what you were up against here.

From the corner of my eye I noticed the guy in charge of backstage – Jack – appear from behind the curtains on stage and move a microphone and the stand into the centre. As he turned back he glanced at me and gave me a thumbs up as he disappeared back behind a curtain.  
I took a deep breath and stepped onto the stage.  
My eyes had to adjust to the spotlights aimed at the stage as my heels clicked on the shiny surface. I could barely see the back wall of the room, or even the crowd in front of me, but I knew what the room looked like.  
I knew that before me was a large open spaced dance floor where bodies swayed, staggered and swung to the heavy beat of the music pouring from the large speakers hidden against the walls and either side of the stage.   
I knew that back to my left was the bar where liquid courage and stupid choices was poured.   
I knew directly in front beyond the sea of bodies, against the back wall, was a circular raised platform filled with booths and to either side of the platform was more booths and a few tables that edged their way toward the dance floor for tired legs to collapse into.  
I knew that beyond the booths, against the back wall was a long mirror. But I also knew, unlike most people, that this was a one way mirror and behind it was the owner’s office.  
That’s where he would be at the moment. Possibly sat doing business, possibly having a strong drink with a pretty floozy sat on his lap whilst another hung round his neck. I didn’t care though – what he did in his own time was up to him, he was the boss anyway, it’s not like I could argue even if I wanted to.  
He sometimes showed himself every now and then to sit in one of the more public booths. He, of course, had a specific one – it was at the back in the middle of the platform. You couldn’t miss it really; he had claimed it by having it trimmed in a gold colour.  
No one sat in it – even if he was in his office, even if he wasn’t in for the evening. No one touched the booth – it was an unwritten rule that you knew upon entering the club.

I cleared my mind as the music around me died down for a beat before my first song began.   
The noise of those below me on the dance floor died slightly and I felt the attention on me but I brushed it off and moved into the song without missing a beat. I had been here and done this for years now, I knew exactly what I was doing and how to do – so I sung and I sung well.

Halfway through my third song he emerged from the staff door to the right side of the bar and strode casually without a care in the world to his booth swinging his cane carelessly.  
The Joker.  
It was time.


	2. Chapter 2

I finished my song confidently and with a smile.  
I then stepped back from the microphone with a smile and made my way to my bottle of water that Jack had placed for me on the floor on the left side of the stage.  
As I leant down to pick up my water I slipped my hand under the over-sized curtain where it pooled on the stage floor and picked up my device – a simple set of 4 buttons on a remote which I had hid at the start of the show.  
I discretely slipped it into my hand so it was out of sight and righted myself with the water bottle. I allowed people to observe me sipping my water before screwing the lid back on and placing it back on the floor causally.  
I doubted any people were watching me - most having taken the break from the live music to grab a new drink or move a bit to the interval club music bouncing out the speakers. But I wanted to play it safe in case anyone glanced my way – who knew where the Joker was looking or what eyes he had around – and I didn’t want anything to go wrong tonight.  
I moved to the back of the stage and poked my head behind the curtain to speak to the sound crew crouched over their equipment fiddling with dials and buttons.  
“Hey guys, number 9 next, yeah?”  
“Sure”, “Yeah” they mumbled, glancing at me quickly and giving me a nod as they then turned back.  
I knew why they looked so anxious and were concentrating hard on the system in front of them – they always did when the boss was in. If something went wrong he always found out who it was – even if what went wrong was only a slightly too long gap between the first song and the next.  
I felt bad for them too – like the dancers from the previous set, they always tried their hardest but slight mistakes were always bound to occur – let’s just say there were three of them a month ago…

I made my way back to the microphone and adjusted it slightly, moving my hair around a bit as I waited for the guys behind the curtain to put the right track. I tried not to look in his direction; I kept my eyes down pretending to fiddle with the microphone as if it was important. I didn’t like making eye contact with him – I felt like he might read my plan in my eyes.  
My tune began – Funhouse by Pink.   
“I dance around this empty house,  
Tear us down,   
Throw you out,  
Screaming down the halls  
Spinning all around and now we fall.” I sang  
……………   
I got my device ready in my hand – my finger over the first button  
“I'm gonna burn it down  
Nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, one, fun”  
As I sang the last word I pushed my finger down on the first button on the remote discretely.  
Boom.  
I could almost hear it happen in my head – though I knew there was no way I could hear it from where it was in the offices above us – they were sound proofed against the club sounds below. No one would be able to hear it, not over the volume of the music – I just had to pray it really did go off.  
I continued on with the song trying to appear unphased.  
“Echoes knocking on locked doors  
All the laughter from above  
I'd rather live out on the street  
Than in this haunted memory”  
………..  
I adjusted my hand to the next button  
“I'm gonna burn it down  
Nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, one, fun.”  
I pressed the second button. Did I hear something from the storage room below? Or was it just the paranoia?  
“Do do do do dodo do - Nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, one”   
The next button was hit, but I just kept singing – “Do do do do dodo do.”  
I had definitely felt vibrations that time and did I smell smoke? Had it got warmer in here? Were people putting it down to the loud beat and the heat from the dancing and crowded space?  
I couldn’t over think this too much – I had to act as if everything was fine but I could feel the sweat dampening my forehead and I knew it wasn’t from over-exertion and I could feel myself being choked up.  
“This used to be a fun house  
But now it's full of evil clowns”   
(I winked playfully in the Joker’s direction)  
“It's time to start the countdown  
I'm gonna burn it down, down, down  
I'm gonna burn it down”

Boom.

I had pushed the last button and felt a tear roll down my cheek as the last explosions occurred - coming from either side of the room- drowning out the relentless noise from the crowd and the entire building seemed to shake. The ceiling lights flickered menacingly as the electrics were hit and plaster fell down in showers. The air was pierced with girls’ screams and the crowd began to bunch together in the middle of the floor.  
Above all of this chaos I heard only one sound – the Joker’s roar of anger.

It was time to leave.

I spun on one foot and ran down the stage to the staff corridor, avoiding the mass of people now scattering in random directions searching for the quickest way out.  
Some people noticed me make toward the staff door and followed, elbowing me out the way as they saw the same opportunity. I gasped as a particularly hard shoulder shove to my side caused me to collide with the wall causing the air to be knocked out of me.  
I gritted my teeth and continued on – I just needed to get out of here even if it meant elbowing my own fair share of people.  
Smoke was building in the room as I clawed my way into the corridor and sprinted past my dressing room and toward the heavy back door.  
The wall to my right began to crumble and I threw myself forward toward the exit.  
“Ahhh!” I cried out in pain as I felt a chunk of wall collide with my right leg causing me to hit the floor with a jolt - my arms out to protect me - but my head still colliding with the floor.  
Tears sprung to my eyes and my forehead seared with pain as I lifted my head up. I pushed myself to my feet and I could feel a burning on the inside of left leg and a warm liquid running down my calf.  
The pain was incredible but I couldn’t stop to examine myself as I saw the flicker of flames from where the wall had collapsed.

Using the adrenaline pulsing through my blood I rapidly limped on. The door area had yet to be damaged and seemed stable. I threw the heavy fir door open with my remaining strength and stumbled into the alleyway behind the club. The cold air hit me like a gunshot and caused me to pause - I hadn’t even thought I would need a coat – I shook my head ‘why are you thinking about this now – it’s not important! Maybe you hit your head worse then you thought!’  
I could feel my adrenaline wearing off and my energy rapidly draining with the blood from my leg.

I saw people who had pushed past me disappear around the corner of the alleyway into the street joining others that had found another way out. I was relieved to see the dancers running together down the middle of the road and the sound crew pulling each other forward, though one seemed to be cradling his arm.  
Behind me the back door swung open violently and a cloud of smoke erupted into the air as a few desperate stragglers blindly slammed into me and my legs gave way easily.  
My dress provided no protection as my knees collided with the ground and I gasped in pain as I grazed the palms of my hands along the floor in an attempt to catch myself.  
I blinked back more tears as I peered at the scrapes that began to ooze blood. As I lay there I questioned whether to move – do I give up now? Let the rubble fall around me and just forget the pain?  
But I knew I couldn’t – I couldn’t think like that – those thoughts were a rabbit hole I didn’t want to fall down.  
I knew I needed to get myself far away and safe and so I pushed myself up, using the less sensitive parts of my hands and my good leg to somehow juggle myself to my feet. I stumbled on, often having to catch myself when a particular step caused too much pain to rush up my injured leg.

Soon, after only a few steps, it became too much and I had to clutch the adjacent wall in the alley way. I rested my head against the stained bricks as I felt light headed and hugged the wall, desperately trying to pull myself to the end of the alley way where at least someone might see me and help.  
I was breathing deeply through my nose to stop the world tilting so much, but instead my head became heavy and I felt my balance go and the floor rushed to meet me.  
I closed my eyes and felt the cold dirty floor on my cheek. The cold was cooling against my cheek and the taste of iron filled me mouth where I had bitten my tongue on the fall.  
I was fed up of dragging myself back up off the floor – I felt like this night had summed up my whole life – a plan, an action, but it always resulted in me, alone, having to pick myself back up off the floor over and over again.   
I took short shallow breaths and the cobbled floor soon began to feel like the softest cushion and it wasn’t long before I couldn’t fight off my eyelids anymore.

Did I hear footsteps – was that a dark figure hanging over me – was that rough hands under my arms and a low voice?  
Was I hallucinating?


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys - this is a bit of a random one, you can probably skip it and it not really affect your understanding of the story, but I just felt there needed to be a bit to explain getting from a->b - plus a tiny bit more Joker!  
> I really appreciate everyone for reading it! Each kudos makes my day so Im really gratefully - any questions or comments feel free - I welcome everything!

I thought I’d seen someone – maybe someone to help. But I must have been hallucinating from my falls as I could still feel same rough and sharp tarmac on my cheek and the cold air, which before was a welcome my warm skin was now a sharp sting to my uncovered arms.  
My head felt thick and heavy and my eyes remained closed. I could now sense every inch of my body – the pounding on my skull, the stinging of my palm, the striking force of the gash in my leg. Now that I focused on it the pain seemed to increase in its intensity causing me to grit my teeth, scrunch my face up and clench my hands into fists.  
Except… one hand was curled under me – where I guess I had fallen on it – but the other I felt suspended above my head – but not by my own muscles.  
That was when I opened my eyes – it was still dark - either I had been out for a few hours or 24hours. I could see it was lighter than when I had run from the club – the very start of a sun rise.  
I glanced up at my arm and my eyes quickly adapted to the dim light to see it suspended by a rope to a nearby drain pipe.  
Using the arm suspended and my other hand I shoved myself into a sitting position – bracing against the pain in every part of my body.  
As I looked around I realised I wasn’t in the same place – I was on the edge of the club’s car park – to the right of the building that was now rubble and metal framework. The site shocked me and I turned away to feel the tears slip down my eyes, already slightly brought on by the pain and my pitiful situation. That club had practically been my home for so many years it hurt me to see it now reduced to nothing but dust and stone.  
I let my eyes wander around the car park – the outline of my car still sat forlorn in the same space I had left it in earlier that night - apart from that it appeared quiet and empty, or at least from what I could see through the early morning gloom.  
I curled myself up tightly with my knees pressed to my chest against the wind that whipped through the open car park. I was alone, in serious pain and trapped. ‘But why was I trapped? Who had seen me lying unconscious and decided the best idea was to tie me to a drain pipe? At least they had the courtesy to move me away from the inferno that had been the club, so clearly they wanted me alive – or did they want to kill me themselves?’  
“Oh god.” I murmured to myself watching my breath cloud around me. I closed my eyes in defeat and rested my head on my knees. ‘Come on [Y/N] the best you can do in this situation is sit there and hide your face?’ I thought at myself angrily. I looked up again at the rope that held me – it looked relatively slim and weak. I pulled on the rope and felt the ache run throughout my arm – pulling it wasn’t going to do any good though, the knot was too tight.  
But hang on. It was a rope – and it was tied. And one of my hands was free. I reached my free hand above my head but couldn’t reach the knot.  
I twisted my body around and, using the brick wall behind me, pushed myself into a squat with my one good leg and pulled myself upright with the wall and my tied wrist, feeling the plastic pipe give way slightly with under my weight.  
Now stood upright I kept the weight off my bad leg – the simple movement having caused it to start throbbing like hell. From here I could easily reach the knot by bending down slightly.   
Keeping one ear out for whoever did this to me I got to work on the knot. Working one handed on the stiff rope with cold, numb hands with a slight concussion (from what I could guess) meant that it took longer than usual to undo it.  
I was just beginning to make progress when I thought I heard something. Was that a car? It seemed to be coming from my left. I finally slipped my wrist free from the restraint when I saw headlights flash round the side of the building and a white van was driving towards me.  
The headlights had yet to illuminate the place I was stood and I seized the opportunity to follow the wall of the building at a run till I reached the roadside and hid behind the corner of the wall.  
I shouldn’t stay here, I knew, but I stayed anyway – curiosity did kill the cat.  
I heard the van pull into the car park and screech to a halt. The van door slide open with a loud thud.  
“Where is she?!” A familiar growl ripped the air. I didn’t have to look round the corner to know who it was. I could almost see his painted lips, his pale skin, and his bright green hair – probably in a mess from the club attack.  
I heard a shot fired. I glanced quickly round the corner praying he wasn’t looking in my direction to see him striding towards where the rope now hung limp. He snarled “How did she possibly undo it?!” He spun around to glare at the group of men who had exited the van and now stood around by the bonnet watching him in fear, except one who I presumed to be Frost who stood by the sliding door near the back of the van.  
None of them spoke. He shot at the ground by their feet causing them all to jump.  
“No one any ideas?!” He demanded of them grinning. He had yelled every sentence so far so I could easily hear him.  
“Tell me this then. Who tied her up?!” He glared at them all daring a response. I didn’t hear a reply from any of the men but the Joker clearly did.  
“Would you kindly explain how this predicament occurred then James?” He asked politely, but his words seemed to drip with menace.  
“You don’t know?!” He asked in mock confusion. “How about you talk me through it then? You took her from the alley way, put her here? Then what? Tied her arms up?” He paused. “No? You didn’t tie her up?!” He demanded in annoyance. He paused again, obviously listening to the man I could hear every so slightly mumble a response.  
“STOP-” He screamed in anger and then returned to his normal sinister volume “Stop your damn mumbling.” I saw him rotate his neck round, stretching his muscles in frustration. “You mean to tell me that you only tied up ONE of her arms?! She’s not an idiot, unlike some! She can untie a bloody knot with one hand!” He snarled.  
BANG. I saw the body drop down. That was enough it was time for me to leave. I spun around and headed off carefully and quietly, not daring to run so close to the car park in case my feet made too much noise on the pavement.  
Once I felt safely out of ear shot I began to run. I didn’t know this part of town that well once I had gotten a few streets away from the club, and I knew I was going in the opposite direction to my home, but my main focus was to put as much distance as possible between me and them.  
I kept an ear out for traffic and dived behind anything suitable to hide behind whenever I heard the sound of a motor but I never saw a white van – they must have gone back the way they came.  
I kept running until I found a familiar road and wandered back toward my flat before pausing. ‘That’s where he’ll expect me to go. I need to find somewhere else.’  
I stood in the dark for a while – I had few friends, but they were surely just as obvious for me to find refuge at. There was one place to go that might be a bit more unlikely - at least for one night.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry guys - there is practically no Joker in this one - for this i deeply apologise but I will try to put him in as soon as possible! I appreciate those that stick with me! Please leave me any comments you have!

From my street I followed a route I had only been along once. I was shivering in the cold air and limping badly – the fear that had driven me to run previously long since gone.  
The sun was just rising as I pushed the buzzer on a large town house that had been split into flats. There was no response. I pushed it again and held it a bit longer before releasing.  
“-ght, alright - Yes?” came a sleepy male voice over the speaker  
“Hey Jake – its [Y/N], mind if I come up?” I questioned nervously – after all it had been a long time.  
“[Y/N]? [Y/N] [L/N]?! Uh yeah sure I guess…” he mumbled and I heard the buzz of the door to the entrance. I breathed a sigh of relief. I hadn’t seen Jake in nearly 2 months. I only knew him because he was Jack’s twin brother; he had sometimes come round to visit the club before he had taken over. We had gotten talking once and it ended up as a date - but then all had hell broken loose with the club changing hands and I hadn’t seen him since.  
I didn’t know what I would have done if he had told me to leave – now I just had to convince him to let me stay for the night, or at least the rest of it.  
I took the steps to his door and knocked. He opened it quite quickly and he seemed to wake up when he saw me and his eyes widen as he took in my attire. I looked down at myself then, only just acknowledging the state my dress was in. I placed my hands over a few parts of my dress that were ripped in a few revealing places. “I’m really sorry Jake, could I come in?” I asked shyly  
“[Y/N]?! What are you doing here at,” He glanced behind him at his clock, “5:30 in the morning?!” he groaned turning back to me. “And what happened?!” I looked at him clearly now – he was in light blue pyjamas with a dressing gown hastily thrown around his thin frame and brown hair ruffled from bed.  
“Ok I know this is sudden and I’m really sorry but I didn’t have anywhere else to go!” I explained quickly.  
He looked me over again “Sure com-" - this time noticing my leg – “Oh shit – you’re covered in blood! Come in - sit down!” He ushered me into the room and closed the door quickly before leading me to his sofa.  
I looked around the place – it was similar to the last time I had been here – I sat in the lounge to the right side of the flat. The other side was a small kitchen with a table and chairs and I knew a hallway ran along the back of the flat to a bedroom and bathroom.  
Jake walked to the kitchen to get a damp cloth and handed it to me – “Here – use that on your leg.”  
“Thank you Jake, I appreciate it.” I took it from him and tenderly cleaned the dried blood off my leg, wincing with stinging tap.  
We sat in silence a bit whilst I tended my leg and he brought me a bandage, some pain killers and a cup of tea. “Thanks Jake, I owe you.”  
“Well you can start paying me back by telling me what the hell happened to you.” He joked weakly. So I did – I told him everything - though I left out the fact that I had caused the explosion.  
He stayed silent throughout the story either watching me or glancing away around the room.  
“Oh my god.” Was all he could said when I finished recounting my night.  
“I know, it has been a long evening.” I stated with a sigh looking down at my lap. Now that I thought about it all it seemed ridiculous.  
“Yeah I’d say… God… But… Why..Why did the Joker attempt to take you?” He questioned. I shook my head – I didn’t have an answer – I didn’t know why. Did he know that I have caused the explosion? How could he? But there was no other reason why he might take me otherwise and be so angry when he found I was gone.  
“I guess no one understands that man…” he trialled off in thought. I nodded. I could finally feel my weariness catching up on me and I didn’t feel like talking anymore.  
Jake must have noticed this because he abruptly stood up. “Of course you need rest – I mean look at you!” he gestured at me with a slight smirk on his face trying to lighten the atmosphere a bit.  
“Look Jake, I wouldn’t be here if I thought there was anywhere else I could go but…”  
“No worries [Y/N] – don’t even start. Just get some sleep.” He pulled a throw off one of his armchairs and placed it on the sofa next to me. I’m sorry I only have the sofa for you, but your welcome to as many pillows or blankets as you want and-“  
“Thanks Jake. That’s sounds like the most perfect thing at the moment.” I smiled tiredly at him. He smiled back and nodded. He headed off to his room and I thought he had gone back to bed before he returned with a some jogging bottoms and a long shirt.  
“Best I can do sorry.” He mumbled handing them to me. I thanked him yet again  
“Good night [Y/N] – or should I say good morning” he chuckled before turning off the light and heading to his room.  
I got changed – feeling so much better to be out of my dress and into warm clean clothes. I lay down on the sofa, positioning a cushion under my head before wrapping myself up in the throw. Over my feet I could see the dim light of the morning beginning to come through the curtained window, so I turned over with my back to it and closed my eyes.

I awoke to the sound of dishes clinking together and I peered over the top of the sofa into the kitchen. “Sorry – did I wake you?” asked Jake as he pulled a bowl down from a cupboard. He was dressed in a causal shirt and smart jeans. His hair was still messy, but in a slightly more styled way to last night.  
“Yeah, but I ought to be up really.” I laughed at his guilty face.  
“No you shouldn’t,” he retorted defiantly, “you ought to be resting you’ve been up all night and you have a bum leg!”  
“Tell me something I don’t know.” I laughed as I sat myself up right. It was strange - I noted - that I still had a surprising good sense of humour, given everything.   
I checked myself over - my head didn’t feel too bad now and my hands were less tender. My leg however still throbbed and I gasped quietly at the pain that shot through it as I moved to stand up – the running on it yesterday hadn’t done it any good.  
“Hey, hey – sit back down!” commanded Jake rushing over to me with concern on his face.  
“Nah I’m fine,” I brushed him off “Just – do you have any more pain killers?” I asked wincing in pain as I tried to put more weight on it.  
“Of course – hang on.” He moved back into the kitchen and dug around a draw before filling a glass of water and bringing it back to me, forcing me to sit back down before he gave it to me.  
“Thanks.” I muttered at him.  
“So what’s your plan?” he asked sitting down next to me as I took the pills.  
“I guess I don’t really know….” I murmured. It was true. I didn’t.   
“What are you supposed to do when you have no job, no safe place and a crazy psychopath supposedly trying to find you?” I laughed weakly, trying to find the humour in my situation. And I must admit I was failing.  
We sat in silence again for a few moments. I didn’t mind though – it felt comfortable.  
Jake finally broke the peace, smiling down at me “Well I think I can fix two of those things.”  
“What do you mean?” I questioned curiously.  
“Well as of where to stay – viola,” he said motioning around his flat with his arms.  
“No Jake I coul-“  
“No, not hearing another word.” He said simply putting his hand up at me. I let out a sigh – I could feel my weariness coming back to me and I didn’t have the energy to fight him on this.  
He took my silence as acceptance and nodded at me. “As for the job – I might be able to fix that too! A previous boss of mine is holding auditions on Thursday night for a new singer at his club – you’d be perfect!” he explained beaming at me.  
I smiled at him weakly not even really registering what he was saying. “As for the whole being-chased-by-a-psychopath thing – that might be the only thing I might not be able to fix…” He trailed off in thought staring into space in the direction of his coffee table in front of us. I made the most fo his silence to lie curled up against the arm of the sofa – my feet tucked up under me as he was sat on the other side.   
“But maybe – Yes! [Y/N] I –“ He burst out but then stopped when he saw me curled back up on the chair. “Oh, sorry, oh course – don’t worry you’ll be able to get all the rest you need here.” He said trying to comfort me I presumed. He stood up and turned away to leave me in peace. “Oh – I’ll try and be quieter.” He muttered and I could hear the smile in his voice.  
i then stretched my legs back out to make use of his vacated space. The last thing I heard was a door closing.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i apologise now - I wrote this in the middle of the night last night when i couldn't sleep before my exam so I'm not sure how coherent it is! - Oh Joker will be turning up in the next chapter! Sorry it took so long!

And so it was that on the Thursday afternoon I found myself in a new skirt and blouse outside a club called the Purple Umbrella. I knew this place – it was owned by the Penguin. Jake hadn’t told me that – he had simply handed me the address on a slip of paper and told me they were expecting me at 3pm before he left for work this morning.  
I couldn’t be too annoyed at him - he had been really kind to over the last few days. Thanks to him I had recovered relatively well and remained safe. Though I had often wondered if he had been extra nice to me in some gestures and I wondered if he was hoping for more from our relationship down the line – perhaps that second date.  
It was all very sweet but at the moment my life was still too up in the air to even consider anything romantic – not that he wasn’t nice looking and really sweet - and hell maybe there would be something there in the future – but I couldn’t think about it now.  
I stepped up to the entrance of the club and knocked on the large dark door. A large, well-built stern man pulled open the door and looked me up and down with a dark look.  
“Uh, hello I am [Y/N] - [Y/N][L/N]. I-I-I’m here for the job open?” I said nervously.  
The man looked at me a bit longer as if trying to sense a lie in my words. He obviously didn’t find it because he nodded curtly at me and stepped out of my way to allow me through.  
I hesitated - the last thing I wanted to do was get involved with yet another crime lord, but it was one of my very few options at the moment and I thought I could guess what Jake had been thinking when he said he may have a solution to the Joker problem.  
I stepped into the club and followed a short darkened corridor until I turned a corner into the main room. There was a bar to my left and a large stage with blue curtains one either side directly in front of me. In front of the stage was a dance floor and to the sides of the room were booths with deep blue cushions and silver accents. The rest of the space was taken with a scattering of dark tables and chairs – each with their own little lamp. It seemed fancier – classier, than my last job - but none the less this was definitely a club.  
“Ahem.” Came a disapproving cough from a table near the open dance floor, knocking me out of my examination. I glanced over to the noise and through the dim light I could make out a large, rather rotund figure seated on one of the chairs. This must be the Penguin.  
“Sorry.” I apologised quickly. He simply ’hmmed’ at me – clearly not approving, but not doing anything about it either.  
I moved toward him so I was stood in front of him - I noticed a few men sat in one of the booths to the side of the room - they didn’t appear overly alert, but I was sure they were packing some form of weaponry.  
Now I could see the Penguin clearly I saw he wore a dark blue pinstriped suit over his beefy frame with a drink in his hand of some brown liquid. A bowler hat sat on the table next to him and I thought I could see the handle of an umbrella lent against one of the chairs. His nose was hooked and his face was quite pinched for such a large man – I could see where the name came from.  
“Mr Penguin.” I greeted – not sure if I should shake his hand or courtesy so I settled with standing awkwardly and doing a slight head bob.  
“Get on with it then – I don’t all day.” He waved his hand lazily toward the stage.  
“O-oh, y-yes sir.” I mumbled, taken aback by the abruptness. I shakily made my way to the stage and positioned myself in front of the microphone – I had no idea if it was on but he clearly didn’t care either way.  
“Is – Is there anything in particular you would like to hear?” I questioned nervously.  
“Surprise me.” He smiled at me menacingly. I gulped slightly knowing my choice was going to make up half of his decision on me.  
I could feel my palms were sweaty – I didn’t normally get bad stage fright, but I was rarely being properly judged on my singing. I began to sing – soon finding out the microphone was on. I had chosen a soft sweet melody, classy – something I felt suited the man before me in his suit and hat.  
Once the song was finished I stayed where I was and waited. There was silence. I continued to stand there awkwardly, not sure if I had permission to move. After what felt like at least 5 minutes I couldn’t take it. “Mr Penguin?” I practically whispered but the microphone amplified it.  
“What made you chose that song?” He asked me in a monotone. That didn’t sound good.  
“I- I don’t know. I mean I – I guess I tend to choose my songs for those that listen and – and that –“  
“That was for me?” He questioned he asked politely – but I wasn’t fooled by his apparent niceness.  
“Y-Yes?”  
“Hm.” He seemed to think for a bit. “You’ll do – you’ll do nicely.” He said smiling at me showing his slightly discoloured teeth - I took that as a compliment, even if the smile was a bit creepy and I smiled back in relief – that solved my job problem – at this point I didn’t even care what it paid. Now just for my other problems.  
“I sense there is something else on your mind my dear.” The penguin suddenly said. I had drifted into my own thoughts trying to think how to broach the subject and jumped at the words. He seemed to be kinder in the way he spoke now that he had decided he liked me. I nodded at his assumption.  
“Spit it out my sweet – you’ll be my new star, I want to know what it is that is bothering you.”  
“I- I was just wondering…” I paused, trying to find my courage. “I need somewhere to stay.” I blurted out. He looked at me questioning and I thought I ought to explain – “I’m staying at Jake’s but I-“  
“Not returning the feelings?” I looked at him questioningly and he let out a short laugh. “That boy was always falling for any sweet girl – I’m surprised my dear that he hasn’t proposed yet!” He barked out with a deep laugh. I stayed silent.  
After recovering from his laughing fit at his own joke he eyed me again – “No home of your own?”  
“It’s not safe.” I said shortly.  
This piqued his interest. “Oh? And why would that be.”  
“The Joker.”  
He studied me for a while before breaking his silence. “And why Miss [L/N] should I invite the Joker here by protecting you?” he asked me in a sickly sweet voice. “You’re not that valuable my dear – there are other singers in Gotham.” I had no answer and dropped my head to my look at my feet in embarrassment – he was right, it was stupid to ask – no one wanted the Joker on their doorstep looking for me.  
He must have felt something like pity for me as he questioned – “What is it exactly that has got that trickster after you?”  
I felt like I ought to tell him the truth – probably one of the few people that might actually understand - “I blew up his club.” I mumbled into the microphone not looking up.  
“Ha!” I heard the short bark of a laugh. “Oh my lovely - in that case indeed you are more than welcome – Ha!” he guffawed. “There a room upstairs you can take - rest assured this place is locked up tight out of hours and surveillance is constant.” He smiled at me again.  
I stood in shock looking at him. “Thank- Thank you Mr Penguin.” He nodded in acknowledgment.  
“Now my dear – it’s just the matter of the contract and it is pretty binding I’m afraid.” I nodded – at the moment I felt like I would do nearly anything.  
“It is pretty simple my sweet – you work for me when I need you to - evenings and maybe the occasional day social of mine. You’ll live upstairs –“ I nodded in agreement – sounded fine. “You don’t leave this role unless you are fired or die.” My face fell slightly at this. But then I thought – singing was the only job I’ve ever really wanted to do anyway - and it was safe - well relatively. Plus it kept me out of the Joker’s reach and in the city I loved. The penguin was watching me think, waiting for my answer, eventually I nodded. “Wonderful! Now your pay will be more than adequate – enough for outfits, living and all that. There may even be bonuses - if you please me that is.” He smirked at me. “Your songs will be chosen for you – I will send a notice if I want anything specific of you on a night.”  
“Yes Sir.” I continued to nod at everything he said.  
“Wonderful – you start tomorrow night.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for everyone still reading - there is a tiny bit of Joker at the end of this - much more in the next chapter (which is nearly done!)

I had worked at the club for nearly a week now. I worked nearly every night the rest of the time I was free to do what I liked.  
I didn’t go out much, I was still too worried that I might bump into the Joker, not that I imagined that he would just be wandering around in broad daylight, but I still felt paranoid.  
To avoid having to leave the club much I got things delivered. The penguin seemed pleased with my work and so had gifted me my own chauffeur when I needed it and anything I wanted was brought to me with just a call to the man at end of a phone – I was spoilt and I loved it - working for Penguin wasn’t half bad.  
I didn’t see the Penguin much, he came in once or twice a week to check how the club was doing, but even then he spent most of the time locked up in his office – I only really saw him before the club opened.  
It was Friday night when I took to the stage once again in a sleek deep blue shimmering dress – it hugged my figure and finished just below my knees – and dark blue heels. My hair was partially up in a bun, the rest flowing freely down my back in loose curls, and my makeup was subtle but effective.  
I performed my pre-planned songs, the only part of this job I disliked – no freedom of choice. They were slow, classic songs they were beautiful, smooth and tuneful but not really fit for a club on a Friday night and the audience was restless for something more upbeat.  
After finishing my first set I stepped to the right of the stage and met Ollie Grimms backstage behind the side curtains. Mr Grimms was in charge of the club when penguin wasn’t around and was the one that gave me my song list. He was a skinny slightly balding man with spectacles, not unkind but he definitely knew things had to be perfect for penguin, and made sure no one stood in the way of everything running smoothly.  
“Hey Mr Grimms, do you think it might be possible to –“ I began nervously   
“No – I know what you’re gonna say girl,” he interrupted me, “I am not changing the list. I do what Penguin wants and that only. It’s more than my life is worth to question him - I value my neck intact.” He looked at me over his glasses as if I didn’t value my own.  
I sighed in defeat – I knew he wouldn’t budge.  
Once my break was over I moved back onto the stage as the previous entertainment – a jazz band – moved off. I positioned myself and the microphone ready for the next set and the band behind me – started up the next song.  
“Ah come on not more of that! Give us something with a bit more of a beat!” Called a voice from the back of the room where a man had stood up from one of the tables. After this outburst it seemed to cause a cascade of calls from others in the room - all after a similar thing. I’d have a riot starting on my hands soon if I didn’t do something.  
I glanced over to the right where Ollie was stood – I looked at him for a hint as to what I was supposed to do. He frowned and shook his head telling me not to do what I was thinking. Tough – he wasn’t the one up here being yelled at. It was time to do what I wanted for once if I was going to fix this  
I turned around and gathered my band together. “Do you guys know Bang Bang by any chance – you know Jessie J?” They looked at me in complete shock but they nodded – “don’t worry,” I reassured them, “I promise I’ll take all the hit for this.”  
“Bit risqué isn’t [L/N]?” question Mike the drummer.  
“They asked for a bit more beat – some I’m giving it!” I turned with a sway of my hips and I sauntered back up to position.  
I held up my hand to the band and counted down on my fingers and the beat started exactly on queue.  
She got a body like an hourglass  
But I can give it to you all the time  
She got a booty like a Cadillac  
But I can send you into overdrive oh  
You've been waiting for that  
Stop, hold up, swing your bat  
See anybody could be bad to you,  
You need a good girl to blow your mind, yeah  
I swung and moved my body - even pulled the microphone out the stand and strutted up and down the stage. I owned the song. I was never usually this confident but I wanted to show these people that I wasn’t just some pretty doll that stood still and sung when I was told to. I need to rebel a bit.  
The crowd began to join in – people moved to the dance floor, or stood up and danced by their tables - few people remained in their seat. I loved it.  
When the song was finished I was out of breath and reality came crashing down, but so did the applause and I couldn’t help but grin out at the audience. Oh I was in so much trouble. I looked to my right to find Ollie’s reaction but he was gone – probably to rat me out to Penguin.  
If that was the case I was going to make the most of my time on this stage. 

I sung a few more songs – ones I use to sing at the old club. The memories brought the Joker back to my mind and I kind of missed him in a weird way. He had never been that mean to me – he just had a temper I knew not to cross, and of course he now wanted to kill me.  
I decided to dedicate the next song to him – no one would know anyway. I turned to the band and told them next song up – Gangsta by Kehlani  
I need a gangsta  
To love me better  
Than all the others do  
To always forgive me  
Ride or die with me  
That's just what gangsters do  
As I sang I felt myself miss him more - I missed him sat in his booth in the centre of the room, so much so I could almost see him in the similar booth in here. I could imagine him draped over the cushions in his burgundy shirt with only the bottom buttons done up leaving his pale and inked chest exposed, his bright green hair neatly slicked back. He would watch me with his dark ringed eyes with his red lips partially opened.  
I had to close my eyes to stop seeing him, but his image seemed scorched into my eyelids  
I need a gangsta  
To love me better  
Than all the others do  
To always forgive me  
Ride or die with me  
That's just what gangsters do  
I finished the song with my eyes closed and I saw the image of him float away from my mind. When I looked into the room he was still there sat in the booth.   
And I wasn’t imagining him anymore.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally a sizeable bit of Joker! So sorry it took so long! I hope you like it!

I stood in shock for a while. I couldn’t believe he was here – clearly the Penguin wasn’t aware. How did he even get in? Well I suppose that was obvious really - a gun, or two, and a just a look at his face.  
He continued to watch me from across the room. He wouldn’t make move in here surely? Not with so many of penguins men around – one little doorman didn’t stand a chance, sure, but it seemed to only be him and Frost here, they didn’t really stand a chance. I’m pretty sure they could probably take down at least half, but after that it would be pushing it.  
No – he couldn’t get me – especially not whilst I was up here. I swallowed the lump of fear in my throat and moved onto my next song – Prayin’ by Plan B.  
Lord Above, I just killed a man,  
Let somebody take the blame,  
Lord above, I'm knelling down,  
My pray take away this pain all up in here.  
I'm prayin', Lord I'm prayin' to you,  
Take away this guilt all up in my head  
I'm pleading, lord I'm pleading with you,  
We got some dealings to do before the day I'm dead.  
He came for me just like I knew he would,  
But this time I was ready and I killed him good.  
But we weren't alone, there was one more left  
He took my weapon from me, put it to the test.  
When this angel appeared out of the dark,  
With the devil in his eyes but god in his heart.  
He slayed him down,  
Saved me from a sudden death,  
But I've still done wrong, so now  
…..  
I kept my eyes away from his booth for the whole song – opting to keep my eyes on the bodies moving on the dance floor. Once I had finished the song I let my eyes flicker to the booth and found it empty. This was worse – now I didn’t know where he was and it terrified me.  
But that was it my, set was up and the next band was waiting to come on. I couldn’t stay up here any longer and I needed to go and face the music of my disobedience earlier. What if penguin fired me?! I wouldn’t be allowed to live here anymore – maybe I could beg him to kill me instead as one last favour? I moved to the right hand of the stage and made my way behind the stage curtain shaking slightly.  
I needed to stay out of sight of the main club, maybe try to make it to Penguins office if I could so I could explain myself and warn tell him about the Joker - hopefully he was in tonight. I grabbed my water bottle and made my way into a staff only corridor that ran behind the bar. Down here were the dressing rooms and offices – Penguin’s was at the end.  
I made my way swiftly down the dark corridor to the end but, after passing the second door, I felt a gloved hand on my bare upper arm.  
I gasped as the hand spun me around forcefully and then caught me before I toppled over on my heels. “Hey Doll – miss me?” He grinned at me with his painted lips but the smile didn’t reach his eyes which bored into me, shining out his true insanity.  
I stood silent in shock – he had obviously waited for me in the dressing room knowing I would head straight to Penguin’s room.  
“Good song choice by the way there sweet, I know how your little mind works – have you killed a man too? Someone after you? Someone saving you from him – from me?!” He let out a manic laugh. “Ah come on doll nothing to say to me? No apology?” He pressed innocently – the grin still in place.  
“I have nothing to apologise for!” I spat out finding my voice.  
“Ooooh” he laughed again turning to Frost who I noticed stood in the shadows behind him his face wiped off any expression. “Kitten has claws doesn’t she?!” He grinned before spinning back to face me, all humour wiped from his face. “You don’t think you’ve done anything worth an apology, hmm?” He pulled my arm, dragging me closer to him and his other hand came up to grab my throat. “Memory improved yet?”  
I remained silent and stared at him me as much hate as I could muster without letting too much of my fear show. “Lost your voice again darling? That’s not good, seeing as how your career relies on it and all – maybe I can convince you to sing with a few of my toys.” The manic grin spread back onto his face and crazy shone from his eyes. I didn’t remove my eyes from his face but I felt his hand leave my arm and then a cool object was pressed against my abdomen. “Sing for me sweetie.” He closed his eyes and rolled his head back as if in some sort of bliss. When I didn’t comply I felt the object, what I could only presume to be a pistol, pressed more roughly into me.  
I closed my eyes and bit down on my lip to prevent myself crying out in pain – I didn’t want to give him the satisfaction. This only made him angrier and I felt the object rammed further into my stomach. I scrunched my face in pain and felt a few tears slip between my clenched eyelids.  
“Ah my dear – what are these?” He asked catching the tears with the thumb of his hand that was around my neck as they ran down my cheek and over my chin. As much as I was terrified of the situation, I was also terrified of how good it felt to feel his thumb brush over my skin. I opened my eyes wide at this revelation and held back a gasp – he had gotten closer, really close. His nose was inches from mine and I could feel his breath breeze over my dry lips. His cold blue eyes were studying mine and I felt like he was reading my thoughts. I couldn’t maintain his intense eye contact anymore and had drop my gaze to the floor.  
I heard him let out an angry growl and the gun now moved from my stomach to my chin forcing my face up with the barrel – a twitch of his finger now would end my life for sure. I knew what he wanted from me and I moved my eyes back up to his. “Got an apology yet?” He hissed - his temper flaring.  
“Ah, Mr Joker, I thought I heard your twisted laugh - what an unexpected and rather unpleasant surprise.” Greeted a voice from behind me and I heard the tap of a cane and footsteps on the floor. I saw Frost tense slightly and lift his gun up slightly.  
“Ah Pengie,” The Joker removed his gun from my chin, but kept his hand on my throat and his eyes on me as he directed his words at the man behind me “– just saying hello to an old employee of mine – she seems to have lost her voice though…” He threw a lazy grin at me.  
“May I suggest removing your hand from her throat – that often works when you want someone to speak.” The Penguin sounded bored, like this was the last place he wanted to be.  
“Silly me, of course.” The Joker loosened his grip slowly on my throat, almost reluctantly, letting go. His smile slowly faded away and he addressed me again.  
“Now my dear, I want you to shake that little memory of yours for next time, promise?” He asked in a sickly sweet voice. I didn’t say anything, just continued to watch him, too afraid to even move at the risk of being shot by either man. “I said. Do. You. PROMISE?!” He roared at me and I flinched as I felt the barrel of the gun shoved into my face, pressing into my cheek.  
I nodded slowly but when I felt the pressure increase I knew it wasn’t enough. “Y-yes.” I stuttered out.  
“Ah there is that sweet voice!” he smiled at me again all the anger gone from his face. He lent in close to my right ear, “Maybe this will help something come back to you” He whispered to me and I felt a shiver run down my back as his breath hit my ear, why did that feel so nice?. His right hand came up to the left side of my face and caressed my cheek as he lent back. I could feel my cheek tingle from his touch and I must have been blushing by now. God I hated myself. I watched his pale eyes which stayed glued to mine as his hand to my left ear and pushed some of my hair behind my ear, as he did this I felt something cool and metal touch behind my ear.  
He pulled away from as if nothing had happened. “Good luck with this one Pengie, she’s a ticking bomb!” He let out a sharp laugh and backed up past Frost, who hadn’t moved an inch from his alert position, he seemed to blend slightly into the darkness. “See ya soon doll.” I saw the faint outline of his grin before the door opened and a manic laugh filled the air and seemed to linger for minutes after he was gone.  
“Always so dramatic.” Came Penguin’s voice from behind me again and I spun round to face him. He was a few feet away watching the door that the Joker had vanished through back into the club.  
“Thank you Mr Penguin.” I stuttered.  
“For what my dear?” He turned his eyes from the corridor to me. I had to think about that – had he saved me? Would he have let the Joker take me if he had tried? Would he have let him kill me? Cleary the Joker didn’t think so and hadn’t been willing to put up the fight if it had come to that – well at least not this time.  
“I hear you’ve been causing trouble – breaking our little contract.” I nodded mutely until I saw him raise an eyebrow at me. What was it with these men and wanting to hear me talk?  
“Yes sir. I’m really sorry.”  
“Ha – I don’t know what the Joker was complaining about that was easy!” He barked out chuckling to himself. “Come with me.” He led me into his office.  
It wasn’t a large room and a huge dark wood desk took up most of the room whilst the walls were lined with filing cabinets and book shelves. The design was similar to the rest of the club, dark blue and poor lighting except for a lamp on his desk that emitted bright, blue tinged light.  
He sat in large luxurious chair behind the desk but didn’t say anything to me so I remained standing in front of him.  
“I hear you broke a very specific part of the contract.”  
“Sir I –“  
“Don’t interrupt or I might change my mind!” He snapped at me slightly. I shut up then. Change his mind about what?  
“I went to watch.” He stated. I stayed in mute shock. “I ought to fire you – or kill you.” He paused here studying my reaction. I didn’t move. He eventually broke out of his thoughts - “but I have thought about it. As much as I hate to admit it that is the busiest my club has been in a while. You seem to actually know what you’re doing,” he admitted sounding surprised and paused again as though to consider his next words. “I’ll alter our contract just this once my dear. Friday and Saturday you can do what you did tonight – but only those nights. Any other night you do as you are told. Acceptable?”  
I nodded eagerly then remember – “Ye-yes sir, thank you!”  
He nodded curtly and dropped his head down to some paperwork on his desk. He must have sensed I hadn’t move “That will be all my dear.” He said without looking back at me and he waved his hand toward the door.  
I found my voice – “Yes sir.” And departed  
Once back into the corridor I put my hand up to my face to wipe away tears that began to fall. I was in shock and I couldn’t really blame myself. As I brushed away the water from my eyes I felt something against my head and my hand moved behind my ear to remove the cold metal object the Joker had placed there. I brought it in front of my face and help it up the closet light.  
I couldn’t believe it. It was my remote I had used to activate the explosives in the club. He knew.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologise if this is really bad writing or doesn’t really make sense or is just generally not great - for some reason i really struggled to write this part and really felt restrained. I have written and rewritten this scene many times to get it to work and I still feel like it doesn’t flow but i didn’t want to make it exceeding long.
> 
> I will try harder on my next part - I think maybe I just needed to get this bit out of the way? I don’t know. I’ll see where it goes from here.

My life remained relatively normal after that night - compared to my last few weeks at least. Calm. Nothing really happened. I worked most nights and spent my days in my flat above the club, still too shaken over the Joker’s unspoken promise to come back to do much else.  
And come back he did. Every Friday and Saturday night. He could always be found in that centre booth every evening as I walked onto the stage. The Penguin never did anything about it, and the Joker never made a move. He just watched me – it almost felt like I was back in the old club.  
I found it disconcerting though. I never relaxed anymore and was constantly jumpy. I knew this wouldn’t last forever, one day he would do something – find me, toy with me with his questions and then, finally, kill me.  
He was toying with my nerves. I felt relatively safe whilst I was on stage, but my breaks in between sets, and when my act ended, left me feeling very vulnerable and I would quickly make my way to my flat where I would hide out for the night or until I had to go back out onto stage.  
I also panicked that he would intercept me like that first night but he never. I could only assume he wasn’t trying, though that didn’t stop me from practically sprinting to my flat each chance I got.  
By now the flat was beginning to feel like a prison to me and fresh air was a rare treasure. But today I was going to have to finally leave the safety of the club. It was Saturday. I had finished my set early last night so I would be fresh to work this morning as the back ground entertainment at one of Penguins lunch meetings. This meant I had to be shipped out to his local meeting place – which of course I wasn’t allowed to know where it was.  
So it was that I found myself in a fancy cocktail dress at 11am getting into a car with blacked out windows and blindfolded. It was only upon entering the building that I was finally allowed to see my surroundings.  
I appeared to be in a large ornate mansion-like building. I had to admit it felt nice to see a different site from my flat or the club. I was shown into a large dining room-like area and led to a small stage with a microphone. Here I readied myself and ran over the songs I had to do and their order.  
It didn’t take long for the room to fill with men in suits all with stern, sullen faces. Penguin was the last to enter and everyone stood as made his way into the room flanked by some of his men. He sat at the head of the table and his men positioned themselves around the room, alert, and their hands over their guns.  
The meeting went on for many hours judging by the number of songs I went through. I knew it was more than my life was worth to attempt to listen so I didn’t bother – I didn’t even want to know what Penguin’s plans were. There were a few yelling sessions, fist pounding on the tables and a few bullets from Penguin’s gun that embedded in few heads.  
I flinched at the bullets but knew better than to stop singing or stumble and I tried to remain calm and detached from it all. I just kept singing.  
It was getting late when the meeting finally finished – I never realised how long these things lasted. I remained singing until the last guest had left and then I was blindfolded again and led back to the car and driven home.  
When I was finally relieved of my blindfold outside the club darkness had begun to fall and I made my way up to my flat to crash. I wasn’t expected to work tonight which was kind of them really. I wondered if the Joker would care when he didn’t see me on the stage tonight. I smirked to myself, he wouldn’t care as such - just be pissed that he couldn’t make me uncomfortable tonight. It might be nice to not be put through that stress for one night.  
I walked up to my flat with a bit of a spring in my step at the idea relaxing evening for once and I was going to embrace it. The good thing about being stuck in your flat was being able to keep on top of the household chores so I didn’t actually have anything to do tonight. That meant I had plenty of time to treat myself.  
I knew it was early but I decided to take a long warm shower and wrapped myself in my warm fluffy dressing gown. I then made my way to my tiny kitchen and made some popcorn, and found a tub of ice cream in the freezer (heck, I hadn’t eaten all day!). I found a little pamper kit I had gotten on a birthday many years ago and turned to a favourite programme rerun. I settled myself into my well-worn sofa and snuggled down for the night.  
By the time I had deemed it ready for bed I had eaten my way through my snacks and given myself a manicure of sorts whilst watching god knows how many episodes of TV. It was surprisingly late.  
As I tidied up I noticed my bin was overflowing. I threw on some slippers emptied it and carried it downstairs to where the industrially large bins were housed for the club. These were in an alleyway at the back of the club but I wouldn’t have to actually enter the main club to get to them if I kept to the staff corridors.  
As I pushed open the heavy back door I felt the cold wind whip my face and I moved quickly to the bins that lined the left wall of the large alleyway. I lifted the large lids of the industrial bin and threw my bag over the top of the rim dramatically, listening to the satisfying thud. I dropped the lid back on top and a loud bang echoed throughout the alley. But was that all? Did I hear another noise? A gunshot?  
I spun around quickly but I couldn’t see anything. I listen carefully. It was silent until I heard a thud and a clattered coming from further down the alley where it curved around the club to follow the building till it met the road.  
I moved carefully to the edge of the club and peered around the corner of the wall. There stood the Joker in all his glory, his back to me his arms out wide to either side of him. His green hair was messy and ruffled unlike its usually slicked back neatness. He wore his long purple alligator coat though he hadn’t done it up so it now hung slightly from his outstretched arms. I couldn’t see his face from here.  
I wondered what he was looking at but then I noticed them. At the other end of the alley were two men. I couldn’t make them out much in the dark but one appeared to be aiming something at him – what I could only assume to be gun of some sorts.  
I heard a slight moan from close to me and I jumped making sure to throw myself back around the edge of the wall so no one saw me. When no one appeared around the building I moved back to my position - this time looking at the wall near me. Frost. He was slumped against the wall with his gun lying next to him. That must have been the noise I heard once I had closed the bin. His eyes were closed but he I heard a quiet moan from him.  
This wasn’t good.  
But why hadn’t the Joker drawn his own gun? Did he not have one on him? How did he even get in this situation – why was he here? I couldn’t answer these questions now, but I also couldn’t just stand here and watch as he was shot – even if he was a horrible person and a true villain.  
I didn’t know why I couldn’t let it happen but before I knew it I was creeping around the wall edge slowly, keeping to the shadows to reach Frost. I crouched down and picked up his gun that lay on the floor. ‘Please God be loaded’ I prayed as I moved beyond Frost and closer to the Joker. There was only one way I was going to know.  
Now that I was closer I could hear their conversation. “We could take him with us Mike – maybe get some ransom - he’s too drunk to do much at the moment.” One said.  
“The Joker isn’t safe until he’s dead.” Came the blunt reply from the other. “We can go to one of his warehouses to get the same amount of money once he’s gone.”  
“True.” The first man admitted, “Any last words Joker boy?” He sneered. The Joker’s only response was to throw his head back and let out a loud manic laugh that echoed off the silent alley walls. There was no humour or joy in that laugh, it felt like a silent promise to kill these men and it caused a shiver to run down my back that had nothing to with the cold night air.  
Then I heard a mechanical click and before I knew it I was stepping boldly from hiding place and striding toward the Joker lifting the gun and feeling my finger clench around the trigger. A gunshot filled the air and I felt the recoil on my hand but I held strong. I turned the gun to the next man and didn’t think twice before releasing another shot.  
I was now stood in front of the Joker but had yet to look at him. I felt him sweep past me in his coat and grabbed the gun from my hand – I didn’t stop him. He strode in front of me and released the contents of the gun into one of the men who appear to be trying to get up. He didn’t say a word. Eventually the bodies moved no more and he spun on his heel at me.  
He met his cold eyes with mine – there was no emotion there.  
“Help me with Frost.” He grunted out in a rough, hoarse voice. I nodded weakly. My legs were shaky as I moved towards the collapsed man but I helped the Joker lift him.  
“B-Bring him upstairs. You can put him on my couch.” I said not knowing how badly hurt Frost was or how far they would have to go to get somewhere safe. The Joker nodded at me mutely.  
He followed my lead back up to my flat. I wasn’t sure how much I was helping to move Frost – he was a heavily built man so the Joker seemed to be doing most of the lifting.  
We eventually got him up to my flat and settled on my sofa where I had been having a relaxing evening under an hour ago. The Joker checked him over whilst I got an ice pack from my freezer and wrapped it in a flowery tea towel. I handed it to him and he looked at it like it was some foreign object, the distain towards the flowers evident on him face. I ignored him and fetched some pain killers from one of my kitchen draws and a glass of water which I then placed on the coffee table in front of the sofa in case Frost woke up in the night. “How is he?” I asked quietly watching from over the back of the chair.  
“Fine.” The Jokers voice was gruff but he didn’t look up. “Just a hard hit to the head.” He remained silent after that busying himself with his phone and anything; it seemed, to avoid looking at me.  
Well if he was going to act like that I wasn’t going to hang around. “I’m going to bed.” I told him as I headed to my bedroom the night’s events now taking its toll on me. “You can stay if you want.” I added before I closed the bedroom door behind me. I didn’t want to deal with any more criminals today, he could figure out where to sleep on his own.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I began to write this part and realised how long it was getting so have split it up into two parts - so hopefully it shouldn't take too long to get the next part out!  
> Thank you to everyone who is still reading - I really appreciate it!  
> Please let me know any comments you have!  
> Happy reading :)

When I woke up in the morning I didn’t initially remember the previous night.  
Once the fog of sleep had finally cleared however I could feel myself begin to panic and my chest pound. Had I really done that?! Had I really murdered two men without even thinking about it?! Where had that come from?!  
I didn’t move for at least 10 minutes. I was trying to place all the pieces of last night’s events in an order that made sense – in a way I felt slightly more comfortable with and would explain my bizarre actions. But I couldn’t really. My only comfort was that it had all been in defence of someone’s life. Ok it was the Joker’s life that had been at stake - and most people would have told me to just return quietly to my flat and let Gotham’s worst criminal finally take the fall for all his actions. But I couldn’t bring myself to have that on my conscience. Yes that made a bit of sense.  
But then the rest of the night hit me. I had offered my home to the wounded Frost – that seemed ok really – he was hurt after all. But what about the Joker? Oh my God you told him he could stay if he wanted! You let him sleep over in your house?! A mass murderer?! “Shit!” I whispered up at my ceiling. Then I thought about my attitude last night – I acted so short with him - You didn’t even give him a blanket or a pillow?!  
“I am such an idiot!” I scolded myself quietly. I closed my eyes tightly and buried my head in my pillow, my cursing muffled - “I am sooo dead.”  
I was almost too scared to leave me room. Last night I had acted relatively confident and uncaring towards him – I put it down to the events of the evening having addling my brain. I couldn’t remember exactly what I said to the Joker but I’m sure I hadn’t shown him much respect and he might be ready to make me pay for that mistake.  
I tried to tiptoe to my door without making a noise – I didn’t want them to know that I was awake if I could help it - I didn’t want to confront them. I listened carefully for any noise but couldn’t hear anything – was Frost still unconscious or had he already left? And what about the Joker?   
I tried again to listen. When I still heard nothing I tried turn my door handle slowly enough that it wouldn’t make a sound. I heard the door click and I pulled it hoping and praying it didn’t creak too much. I peered through the small gap I made between the door and the doorframe and scanned my living room. It was empty.  
I pulled the door open further and step slowly and carefully out. There was no one in my open kitchen and no noise from the bathroom. The blanket was folded neatly on the sofa and the water glass was sat on the draining board. They had gone.  
I couldn’t help but feel a bit disappointed. I shook my head. No. I had dodged a bullet – literally – by not having the Joker here. Besides I still hadn’t properly spoken to him since he caught me in the staff corridor and questioned me with his hand around my throat. I didn’t want to replay that - especially not here when I had practically no chance of anyone interrupting unlike last time. Yes - this was for the best.   
I moved through to my kitchen and made myself a cup of tea and scraped some breakfast together for myself. I sat at my breakfast bar with a bowl and began to chew my way through a bowl of stale breakfast cereal – I really needed to order myself some new groceries. Then there was a knock at my door.  
I abandoned my soggy breakfast and answered it – opening it only slightly to find Frost looming over me.  
“H-hi…” I stuttered at him in greeting. I remained inside the flat with the door still mostly closed.  
“Mam.” He nodded at me.  
“C-Can I, can I help you?” I inquired staring wide eyed at his figure in my doorway. He was in his usual suit and tie and his hair was neatly combed hair as usual.  
“Boss wants you to have this.” he said gruffly passing me a package in purple wrapping paper and green ribbon. The sides had HaHaHa written all over them in black marker pen.  
“Thanks –but can I ask why you had to deliver it? Doesn’t he have…” I searched for the right word, “‘lesser’ men to do menial tasks like this?” I asked feeling a bit more confident as he didn’t seem to be here to hurt me.  
“Boss doesn’t deem this a ‘menial’ task. He won’t trust anyone else to deal with you.” He informed me. ‘Deal with me’ – what was that supposed to mean? Was I just a hassle to him, something that needed to be taken care of? Probably. It wouldn’t surprise me.  
“I also wanted to give you my thanks for last night.” He interrupted my thoughts looking tense and awkward - as though apologising was a rare and possibly painful experience for him.  
“Well your welcome I guess.” I gave me a small smile and I thought I saw his face soften slightly from his usual stern frown. I felt myself relax slowly; releasing muscles I didn’t know I had tensed.  
“Well good day mam.” He nodded again before turning.  
“[Y/N]. Call me [Y/N].” I called at him as he began to walk away. He stopped and turned his head slightly in my direction.  
“Good day [Y/N].” He nodded with a slight smile now. I grinned at him. He had nearly reached the stairs when I remembered what I had wanted to ask him.  
“Oh Mr Frost wait!” I blurted out suddenly, placing the wrapped present down in my flat. I opened my door wider and stepped out into the corridor. He paused and turned towards me. His eyes widened as he looked me up and down. I glanced down at my attire and noticed I was still in my well-worn baggy pyjamas and blushed, feeling my cheeks turn hot. I shook my head clear of embarrassment as I look back up again. “Wh- What happened last night – why were - why were you in the alley?”  
“Miss [Y/N] I shouldn’t really say. Boss wouldn’t be happy.” He admitted. He must have seen my face fall - “I suppose though, I do owe you though for helping me...” He gave a quick wink and I supressed a giggle.  
“We were at the club as usual waiting for you to perform,” He began, I blushed at this - I’d never had it confirmed that it was the reason they were there. “But you never showed. Boss got annoyed and then angry and then just kept drinking. I warned him to stop and suggested we leave but he kept muttering something about you.” I felt my face get even hotter. “After about an hour he seemed to suddenly snap out of it and he stood up and left. He didn’t go to the front door of the club - he went to the back fire door and into the alley.  
As he left I followed, but then I noticed he had left his gun on the booth table so I went back to retrieve it. When I found him outside he was just staring at an alley wall muttering and laughing quietly. I was going to talk to him but a gunshot went off and there I noticed there was a man at the end of the alley. Next thing I knew something hit me from behind and I don’t remember much else. I think I saw you come towards me and pick up something on the floor at some point but - I can’t be sure I wasn’t just concussed. Then I was on your sofa in darkness.”  
“Did he stay last night?” I murmured quietly. We both knew who I was referring too.  
“Yes - he was asleep in the armchair when I woke up. I let him sleep - he rarely does - but when he woke up we left.”  
“Thank you for telling me Frost, I appreciate it.” I gave him a small smile.  
“No worries [Y/N], I’m sure I’ll see you around.” He gave me a small smile back.  
“Yeah, I’m sure.” I smirked and gave him a little wave as I walked back into my flat. I closed the door and let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding. He was nice really – it made me wonder how he had gotten into working for the Joker. Speaking of the Joker. I felt my eyes move to the present that I had sat on my kitchen counter.  
It would be an understatement to say that I was wary -this was the Joker giving me a present. It could be bomb for all I know. But Frost didn’t say anything and although I didn’t really know him I feel like he may have given me a bit of warning if it was dangerous.  
Plus the Joker still seemed to want to talk to me so I didn’t believe he would kill me off yet.  
I couldn’t stand having it just sat in my kitchen. I tore off the ribbon and paper and lifted the lid off the box. Inside was green tissue paper. I dug around through the layers and my hand came into contact with something metallic.  
I pushed the paper out of the way to reveal a revolver. It had purple accents on it and the word ‘voice’ on the barrel and deadly repeated on the cylinder. ‘Deadly Voice’. I felt my eyes widen and my mouth drop open slightly. I threw the gun in one of my kitchen draws as if had stung me and shoved the drawer closed.  
I stormed out of the kitchen. What was he thinking giving me a gun? Was he trying to tease me about last night? Was he making fun of me?! Of course he is you fool he’s the Joker!  
I was angry – how dare he make fun of me when I saved his life! How ungrateful! I stomped around my kitchen throwing my cold tea down the sink and cleaning up the rest of my breakfast, almost breaking the bowl in the process due to my temper  
I spent the rest of the day ordering my much needed grocery shop online, cleaning and reading so long forgotten books. But my mind was always on the gun that sat in my drawer. I hadn’t touched the box it had come in – it lay abandoned by my front door, the tissue paper falling onto the floor slightly.  
I tidied it up and noticed how heavy the cardboard box still was. I peered into the bottom, pushing away a bit more useless tissue before I noticed boxes of bullets lined up.  
I couldn’t believe this. So he had given me an actual working gun with actual bullets?! Did he want me to kill more people?! Well there no chance of that!  
I opened my bin and threw the bullets in it before pulling out the revolver before dropping that in too. I slammed the lid on it my temper flaring again and I strode away to my bedroom to get ready for work.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys - sorry this chapter is so long! I have been working it and reworking it for ages now and I finally have given up and am just going to post it so sorry if its not great!  
> Also thank you to everyone for the kudos and the follows! I really appreciate it so much!  
> Any comments are truly welcome!

It was nearly a week later when I saw the Joker again; he was in his usual booth as I looked out into the crowd from the stage preforming my usual set. He was in black trousers and a white shirt with the top of his pale chest exposed to the air and decorated with golden chains.   
Tonight was different to the usual though. He usually kept his gaze on me causing me to squirm, but tonight he didn’t look at me throughout the entire performance. Tonight, his attention was between his phone and the scantly glad waitresses that floated amongst the tables.  
I could feel my heart drop at this and I cursed myself silently – why should I care? This should be a welcome relief from his usual behaviour. I tried to keep my head clear and carry on with my set but soon felt something stir in my stomach as I saw him look at a cocktail waitress in a particularly revealing dress – I could practically hear him purr. How could I be jealous of that girl? It was ridiculous - why would I want a murderous psycho looking at me like that?! Yes I couldn’t deny that he was handsome in a rather unusual way and he had a way of talking which could charm anyone – but he was also someone who didn’t care about anything or anyone, could kill without blinking and who would give gifts like live guns and bullets! His insanity was clearly rubbing off on me.  
The rest of my performance I kept my eyes away from the back row of booths and I made myself focus solely on my songs, not noticing that my music became more and more like ballads.  
As my set finished I left the stage only to be caught by Mr Grimms waiting for me in the wings.  
“Hey [L/N]! I need you for the next set.” He called after me as I moved away to get changed.  
“What?” I spun around confused – I was done for the night.  
“I’ve had my dancer call off tonight and I know you have a background in it.” He stated.  
“Yeah from 5 years ago – I haven’t done it since!” I told him.  
“That’s more than anyone else has here!” He retorted. “Here!” He handed me a small dress. I held it up and marvelled at the small amount of material  
“I won’t fit in that!” He raised one eyebrow at me and before I could say anything he had turned and walked away. I knew there was no use following him.  
“Errr!” I huffed in exasperation - could tonight get any worse?!  
I made my way to the dressing rooms with my tiny piece of fabric. Once I finally managed to squirm into the dress I looked at myself in the mirror. I could hardly recognise myself, it was a deep green fabric which wrapped around my neck and finished mid-thigh. It clung to every curve of my body and hid nothing – it was good thing I had been so low on food recently really.  
After digging in the bottom of my dressing room wardrobe I found a pair of matching colour heels and then headed back to the stage, trying to stay out of sight for as long as possible and constantly pulling my skirt down paranoid.  
“Hey [L/N] – hear your my dancer for the night!” chirped Ryan who stood backstage tuning a guitar. He was the singer in a band Penguin hired for Friday and Saturday nights ever since the music line up had changed.  
“Yeah – that’s me.” I said unenthusiastically giving him a grimace of a smile.  
“Are we really that terrible?” He laughed raising an eyebrow at my expression.  
“Sorry – no it’s just this dress is a tad… revealing.” I said searching for the best word to sum up my chronic embarrassment.  
“You look beautiful – doesn’t she boys?” He called off his shoulder at the rest of the band who were also tuning guitars and fiddling with other electronic equipment. His response was a chorus of ‘yeahs’ and a wolf whistle from the drummer. Ryan raised both his eyebrows at me this time with a look that said ‘see?’  
“Aww cheers.” I said laughing but feeling my cheeks go hot.   
“Now let’s go do this!” Ryan rallied before striding up onto the stage with confidence.  
I waited for the band to file on behind him and I followed quietly behind them, stopping just out of sight behind the side curtain. I stood awkwardly fiddling with the hem of my dress as they set up their instruments and microphones.  
Eventually they were ready and the drum beat started. As Ryan began to sing he gave me a slight hand signal and I nervously headed onto the stage. I knew this song quite well and I moved to the beat, trying to ignore the audience before me, focusing solely on Ryan who I liked and felt comfortable around. I made sure to move right to the lyrics Ryan sang, sauntering away, spinning and moving my hips to the changes in tone to the lyrics. By the time the song was over I could feel my insecurities beginning to slip.  
“Ready for the next one?!” Shouted Ryan to the audience and then glanced at me. I gave him a slight nod and a small smile. He grinned at me and signalled for the band to start the next song.  
As the songs kept going and I moved more and more I could feel myself letting go and caring less – gone were my thoughts of the gun in my room, gone were the memories of the night before, gone were my feelings of the Jokers lust filled eyes staring at waitresses.  
Before I knew it the bands last song began. It had a deeper beat and sexier, more sensual tone to it, so I decided to have some fun. I swung my hips and swayed to music, sliding my hands up and down my body. I strode up to Ryan and he played along with my game until we were grinning at each other. I leaned into him and began to move my hands around him slightly and, though I kept my movements looking flirtatious, I never did anything inappropriate. I kept contact on him as I moved around him before striding off, in time to the lyrics, down the stage like a catwalk. As I reached the end of the stage I spun and dropped down to a squat before slowly rising up back up again.   
I probably looked like an idiot pretending to be a stripper, but it was just me and the guys in my head and I was happy for a laugh at my idiotic moves. Finally, I strode back to Ryan and swung into him provocatively, grinding against him like I had seen some of the dancers do at the old club. I heard the last chords of the song and ended my game by flicking my hair back and leaning into Ryan to kiss his cheek.  
“Thanks Ryan.” I whispered into his ear.  
“Anytime – I mean it.” He murmured back and winked at me. I giggled in my still out-of-it state at his obvious hint.  
I soon fell back to reality when a round of applause broke out to the band. I walked off the stage now truly feeling my embarrassment and the warmth of my skin no longing just being due to my dancing. Oh my God, what did I just do in front of everyone?! I really need a drink… I headed toward the bar fanning myself with my hand to try to cool my glowing face.  
I sat myself down on a stool at the bar and ordered myself a cocktail. I took a long sip and twirled my straw between my fingers watching the rest of the club life. It was rare that I actually got to have a look out at the club when it was open and busy. I watch the couples at the tables, the huddles of girls giggling and grinding on the dance floor shooting flirtatious looks at the groups of guys chatting pick up strategies and meeting the girl’s eyes.  
As I scanned the room I couldn’t help but let my eyes wander to his familiar pale face. He was facing me, watching with thunder in his eyes and I quickly glanced away and turned my attention back to my drink. I could still feel his eyes boring into me so I flicked my hair from over my shoulder so that it fell over my cheek and hid my face. I swallowed thickly. What had I done to deserve that look? Why was he so furious – deal gone south? Someone get his drink wrong? I didn’t know, and didn’t want to know, and certainly didn’t want his anger directed at me.  
I felt a tap on my shoulder. My head shot up – I had been too deep in thought to notice anyone walk up behind me. I turned to see Johnny stood over me.  
“Sorry Miss [L/N] – he is asking for you.” He muttered and he truly did seem sorry for his boss’s behaviour. I glanced around Johnny at the Joker. He met my eyes and raised his pale hand, beckoning me over with a finger. I shook my head at him defiantly – I was not a puppet to boss around.  
“Sorry Johnny – I am not here for his convenience.” I stated, though not taking my eyes off the green haired gangsta. I heard Johnny sigh at the fact I wasn’t going easy.  
The Joker raised a non-existent eyebrow at my response and, though the club was loud with music and voices, I could practically hear him growl from across the room. He reached into his jacket and pulled out his purple gun before lazily throwing his arm over the back of his chair aiming his gun into the next booth and at the nearest person.  
I sighed and rolled my eyes. Of course. I wouldn’t put it past him to pull the trigger if I refused so I abandoned my drink on the bar, slid off my stall and wove my way through the crowd pulling my dress down self-consciously.   
As he saw me moving towards him he lowered his gun and gave me a wide grin. “Hello gorgeous,” he greeted eyeing me up and down in my dress as I stopped next to his booth. Now I was closer I could see the start of his muscles through the open part of his shirt and I could feel the blush on my cheeks. “Did you enjoy yourself up there darling?” He raised his invisible eyebrows and his eyes looked dangerous. I presumed he was referring to my dancing previously.  
“Yes I did.” I stated simply, not understanding his problem. His grin dropped slightly and he growled dangerously. I looked at him confused.  
“Sit.” He demanded his eyes not leaving my face.  
“No thank you.” I muttered not moving.  
“Don’t push me honey.” He growled shooting me with a deadly glare and fiddling with his gun on top of the table. I sighed at his threat and perched myself on the edge of the booth cushion. He raised one invisible eyebrow but didn’t say anything this time.  
“Tell me sweetie, didn’t you like my present?” he asked innocently. His sudden mood swing took me back but I composed myself.  
“You certainly have a unique idea of idea of what classes as a present.” I muttered dropping my eyes.  
“Speak up sweetie you have such as lovely voice.” He purred showing me his wide grin again and his metal grill shone in the light emitted from lamp on the table. I shot him a dark look knowing full well he had heard me. “And here I thought you’d appreciate it.”  
“Why? Why would you think that?!” I blurted out.  
His eyes widen slightly at my outburst. “Careful.” He warned lowly. “Anger looks goooood on you babe.” He purred. “But don’t take it out on me.” He said innocently placing his hand on his bare chest.  
“Not take it out on you?! You are the reason I am angry!” I cried.  
“Is it really?” He pouted, teasing me. “What have I done that so bad?”   
I couldn’t hold it back anymore – the idea that he didn’t think he was the reason just made me lose it.  
What haven’t you done?! It’s all your mood swings! Your flirting and then threatening! Your staring! Your constant presence so I can never relax! The fact that I don’t know if you want to kill me or talk to me! Your weird dangerous presents! And the fact that I killed two people for you and you didn’t even thank me for it!”  
“Bingo!” he cried out “We have a winner!” his red lips spreading into a menacing smile across his face.  
I was confused and remained silent. “How did you justify it to yourself?” He questioned me, his eyes studying me.  
“Excuse me?”  
“People who don’t kill for a business – boring people – they have this thing of having to justify why they killed a person.” He explained slightly annoyed, as if normal people were the dullest people in the world. “So tell me what was yours?”  
I didn’t say anything. He was right – I had justified it to myself, but why should I tell him. It wasn’t any of his business.  
“Pretty, pretty, pretty….” He whispered at me but his icy eyes flashed dangerously.  
“It’s not your business.” I muttered at him.  
“Most people I can understand,” he said as if he didn’t hear me,” They usually have to kill for a reason – blackmail, money, lust…” he trialled off at me suggestively his eyes seemed to flash with something. “But I can’t see yours. So come on tell me pleeeasssseee.” He whined.  
“I didn’t want your blood on my hands.” I admitted.  
“But you were happy with the other two guy’s blood?” He questioned his face lighting up with delight at my obvious overlook. I stayed silent. He was right – why was his life any better than the other men’s? Why had I not even given a thought to the lives I was destroying? They may have done illegal things too, but I highly doubted the two of them combined had done as many illegal things or killed as many people as the Joker.  
I looked away out to the stage where the next band, a jazz band, had begun to play. It was getting late now and I needed to get to bed.  
“Ahh doll look at me…” he drawled. I didn’t move. He growled and slammed his hands on the table as he shoved himself up and across the booth in one fluid movement and grabbed my face pulling me up so I was inches from his. “I’ve let you get away with a lot tonight sugar, dancing with that boy, yelling at me, not looking me in the eye, but I think you need to learn some respect.” He snarled and I winced as his hand tightened on my chin and his fingers dug into my cheek.  
Suddenly his grip was gone from my face and his hand slapped across my face. The shock, more than the force, caused my head to fly to the right and I stumbled catching myself on the booth cushions.   
My cheek stung and I had to blink back tears as I looked up at him. He pulled his jacket straight but kept his head down, I wasn’t sure if he was trying to compose himself or if he felt bad. Hell of course he didn’t feel bad.  
That was it. I wasn’t here to be teased, ridiculed and bruised. It was late and I was going to bed. I stood up abruptly and went to swiftly turn away but he shot his arm out and caught me.  
He kept his head down, not looking me. “You’re not leaving me are you?” he murmured without looking up.  
“I don’t want to be anywhere near you.” I snapped at him  
“Ah doll your hurting me right here!” his mood changing instantly again, he was suddenly looking at me again, grinning insanely at me, pointing at his shoulder.  
“I’m hurting you in your shoulder?” I demanded angrily.  
“Oh I’m sorry” he let out his signature laugh, “– where’s a heart supposed to be? Here?” He gestured to his crotch, winked at me and continued to laugh loudly. He seemed to have snapped completely. His usual self was clearly only a small layer of his craziness. The slap seemed to have triggered something in him and released his true insanity.   
“Oh no wait, it’s here!” he exclaimed still laughing manically and pointing at his jacket sleeve. “Because that’s where yours is baby!” he grinned maliciously.  
“In your dreams!” I spat in shock at his mad behaviour.  
“Some nights yeah,” he mocked, “but only because the reality inspires me!”  
“Your- your…” I stuttered not knowing how I felt or how to describe him.  
“‘Your’, ‘Your’,” he mimicked in a high pitch voice. “Come on sweetie – use your deadly little voice.” He purred.  
But I didn’t. Instead I withdrew the arm he wasn’t gripping and didn’t hold back as I swung around to slap him in the face. I didn’t look to see what damage I had done I just ran as fast as I could up to my flat and locked the door behind me before collapsing in gasps and sobs against my front door.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone I’ve done the next part - its quite short, but I feel like this was a good point to stop as the next part will probably be quite long!
> 
> I apologise for my poor writing now (i feel like i kind of repeated a lot of the last chapter) and for the significant lack of joker in this one - but he’ll be back in the next part!
> 
> Hope you enjoy anyway! Comments always appreciated!

I was sat on the floor in the dark, legs pulled to my chest with my back lent against my front door, sobbing into my knees. I had half an ear out to the noises emanating from the club downstairs and the corridor on the other side of my door. I was waiting for him.  
When I had fled I heard had heard a large crash from behind me in the main club but hadn’t looked behind me or stopped till I reached my flat, even when I had heard the gunshots fired and the screams.   
I was dead. You couldn’t slap the Joker and get away from it.  
Why had I slapped him? I knew I shouldn’t of, but I had just lost control. He had pushed too many of my buttons, built my temper till I couldn’t take it anymore. Sure that was what he did with everyone – played with their mind, drove them insane – but was anyone stupid enough to slap him? Maybe they didn’t live that long.  
He had toyed with me before though – why had I snapped this time? What had he even said to me? The evening was a blur at the moment. I knew he had pushed me and toyed without me throughout our entire conversation but I wasn’t sure when it had started to take its toll on me.  
He had even told me that I had been disrespecting him so why hadn’t I done something about it? He’d even given me a list.   
‘I’ve let you get away with a lot tonight sugar, dancing with that boy, yelling at me, not looking me in the eye, but I think you need to learn some respect’  
It was weird what seemed to annoy him. I understood I shouldn’t have yelled at him, but in that case he shouldn’t provoke me! Not looking him in the eye was a courtesy I didn’t believe he had deserved at the time, probably a poor judgement of mine in hindsight. But dancing with Ryan? That was my job and something I had actually enjoyed in the moment – why did he find that disrespectful towards himself? It wasn’t like I could even help it; I hadn’t wanted to be up there. If he had an issue with it he could take it up with Penguin!  
Then he had slapped me and gone more insane than I had ever seen him. The Joker had his own definition of insanity and it was terrifying. Those wide eyes, fearless and unblinking, his wide grin that stretched across his whole face, and that laugh. That manic, high pitched cry of pure torment and cruelty. It still echoed through my skull now and a chill ran through me.  
Then he made those cruel and crude comments. But were any of them true? Did he truly believe my heart was on my sleeve? Was it? How could he know what was going on in my heart if I didn’t even know?! And did he really dream about me – I highly doubt it. It was just another one of his many mind games to push me further towards his version of insanity.  
It was stupid to overanalyse it now. What was done was done and I had to face the consequences. Maybe he’d get Frost to do it and I could beg him to kill me quickly – Johnny seemed nice enough to offer me that. But knowing the Joker, the little I did, revenge would be something he would want to carry out himself. There was little hope for me.   
I lent my head back against the door and closed my eyes. The entire night was catching up on me and I felt exhausted. I couldn’t hear anything anymore. The whole building was silent. I glanced over at my oven clock and the glowing numbers told me it was nearly 2:30am. It was early for the club to be closed but I wasn’t surprised, I doubted many people had remained long once I had fled.  
I didn’t like the silence. Every creak of the floorboards sounded like someone walking up the corridor, every knock of the pipes in my walls sounded like someone outside my door. This was torture.  
I needed sleep; I could feel myself fighting my eyelids. Shock was taking over my body and dragging me down to unconsciousness. I grabbed my kitchen counter and pulled myself to my feet.  
If I was going to sleep I wanted to feel at least a little bit protected. I flicked on my main light and checked my door to ensure all the locks and bolts were drawn securely. I then even pushed one of my wooden cabinets in front of the door. I highly doubted that would stop the Joker getting in – but it might deter him till I woke up to do something about it.  
I checked all the windows were shut and locked and then found myself searching through my bin. I was going to make use of this present if I had to.  
It took me a while of fiddling with the gun to finally figure out how to load it but eventually I had a round of bullets ready. I locked myself into my bedroom and placed my gun on my nightstand with an open box of bullets.  
I finally peeled off my ridiculous dress and pulled on my familiar comfortable pyjamas before climbing into bed. I lay there staring at the gun, running through how to use it in my mind, when I finally felt my eye close.  
I woke hours later to bright light streaming through the crack between my curtains. I blinked at the bright beams as my vision adjusted and my eyes fell on my gun next to me. I was alive. That was hopeful.  
I pushed myself out of bed and threw my dressing gown over my shoulders, slipping my feet into my well-worn slippers. I was just about to leave my room when paused and quickly jumped back to my bedside, grabbing my gun and shoving it into my dressing gown pocket. Couldn’t be too careful.  
I left my room and moved carefully through my flat, paranoid someone had broken in last night and was attempting to get a jump on me. I searched every place I thought a grown man might hide but I came up empty. For some reason this still didn’t put me at ease. I was still waiting.  
I trudged back to my kitchen and I turned on my radio to break the eerie silence that seemed to have fallen in the flat. The initial music made me jump, but soon the background noise began to work and I felt myself calm slightly and even sing along lowly. Then the news came on.  
“Last night at around 2:00am several people were shot outside of the popular club Purple Umbrella. The shots were believed to have been fired by the well-known criminal and Arkham-escapie known as the Joker. Police are unsure of his whereabouts now and are calling on witnesses for any leads. If you know any-“ I turned off the radio. Oh no. Those poor people were dead because of me, as well as that Penguin was going to kill me - I’ve probably managed to scare away half of the usual customers.  
I jumped and clutched my chest as I heard a knock at my door. Was it him? Had he finally come?  
I crept over to the door, pulling my gun of my pocket and holding it out in front of me. I slowly turned the door handle and I could see barrel of my gun shaking in my hand.  
I peered through the small crack in the door I had made and was surprised to find myself facing, not the familiar bright green hair and anaemic complexion of the Joker, but a short, large man in a black and white pinstripe suit. I swung the door open wider as I took in the Penguin stood before me.  
“Go-good morning sir.” I greeted in surprise. He looked me up and down in my dressing gown and pyjamas, he eyes resting on my gun that hung in my arm that was now limp by my side.  
“Prepared I see.” He acknowledged. I nodded mutely. “You did cause a fair amount of trouble last night miss [L/N].” he stated pushing past me with his cane to limp into my kitchen. I just stood still and watched him, still in shock from the unexpected visit, before snapping out of it. I quickly closed my front door and followed after him.  
“I really am very sorry Mr Penguin. I-I don’t –“  
“There is really no point in your apologising is there?” He interrupted me abruptly. “I don’t know what you did - and I don’t want to know.” He added as I opened my mouth to explain. “But luckily for you I took care of it.”  
“Sir?” I questioned.  
“Once the Joker so magnificently smashed one of my tables my men were soon on him. He took a bit to overwhelm, lost a few men in the show, but they soon removed him from the premise.” He informed me. “My belief is that he took his anger out on a few passers-by. He does have a dreadful temper on him.” He said tutting as if it was a shame for someone to show that sort of behaviour. I remained silent. That explained why he hadn’t come to kill me last night. “Not exactly great for business, my dear.” The penguin broke my thoughts as eyed me, clearly irritated at his loss of profit.  
“No sir.” I murmured not really sure what else to say.  
“Hmm.” He hummed in annoyance and kept his eyes on me, whilst I kept mine looking down at the floor. “I’m deducting any loss of revenue from your pay.” He stated simply.  
“Yes sir.” I nodded.  
“And as you now owe me a favour…” he trailed off to watch my expression at this. I wasn’t overly surprised, he had after all probably saved my life last night, but I was still worried what he wanted. I gave a quick nod to show my understanding.   
He handed me a slip of paper, “You are expected to attend lessons every afternoon for the foreseeable future.”  
It was a business card to a gun range. “Sir?” I questioned stunned.  
“It is all very well owning a gun my sweet, but can you actually use it?” He asked with humour in his eyes as he waddled to the door.  
“But sir!” I called after him. “I don’t need to be able to use a gun - I am just a singer!” I pleaded and I felt like I was trying to convince myself as much as him.  
He paused in the doorway giving me a dangerous smile “For now. It’s time to make that voice truly deadly.” He disappeared around the door frame and I ran after him, stopping just outside my door as I watched him limp down the corridor. “A car will be waiting outside at 2 o’clock.” He called back to me without turning as he descended the stairs.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok guys - though I could spend forever and a day still playing with this part I have decided to set it free - I apologise greatly for the length (I don’t really know how it got this long!)
> 
> Hope you guys enjoy it - please give feedback - I love every word you write to me! Please let me know if you want more! My writing may slow down now because my lectures etc. are beginning to pile up but I like to escape into the words so I have no problem continuing to post things!

So every day at 2pm I took a car to the other side of Gotham to the gun range Penguin had ordered me to attend. I usually spent my entire afternoon there, sometimes overrunning into the evening, sending round after round pummelling down the long empty grey room. I only left when I was told the car had pulled up to take me back - I wasn’t sure how long penguin wanted me to continue but as long as the car turned up outside my door I continued to attend the sessions.  
The staff were nice and they liked to push me. Whenever I was there it was only ever me and the instructors, I could only presume that Penguin had booked the whole place out, or maybe he owned it - I didn’t know and I didn’t mind – I liked the peace and quiet of just me and my gun. Yes, I had to admit that I had begun to get attached to my gun now and almost felt guilty for having thrown it into the bin.  
I was lying if I said I didn’t find using it enjoyable, sure to start with I was lucky if I hit within 5 foot of my target, but by the end of the first week - having spent good-knows how many hours staring down the empty halls and getting a rather sore trigger finger - I was improving vastly in my aim.  
It was the end of my second week at the range and by now I had practically mastered the basics of my revolver due to all the hours I had put in. After chatting with one of the instructors they had convinced me to try out a few other types of guns and I was now handling some sort of rifle. I hadn’t asked what type – I didn’t speak ‘gun’. I shifted its weight between my hands and attempted to raise and aim it. It was so much heavier than my little revolver and felt slightly unbalanced with its elongated barrel.  
I spent the rest of the afternoon playing around with my new toy. By the end of the session my arms were aching from supporting the rifle and my shoulder twinge from where every recoil had caused the end of the gun to shoot into me violently. When I finally made my way out of the reception door that afternoon the sun was setting between the multi-story buildings that blocked the horizon.  
I made my way over to the familiar black car that sat a few foot away with Miles - the driver - waiting by its side as usual. I gave him a small smile in greeting and he opened the back door allowing me to slip into the back row. I felt my revolver dig into my leg as I sank into the leather seat and I shifted in my position to pull it out of my coat pocket. I admired it as Miles entered into the drivers position and started the car. I twisted my revolver in my hands reading the same engraved silver words I had read many times before ‘Deadly Voice’. I frowned at my memories and placed the weapon down next to me to prevent it digging further into my thigh.  
I settled in for the journey home, staring out of the car window. I watched the street lights pass in the dimming light as the common sight of commuters wandering home from their everyday lives rushed past. Everyone was wrapped up against the cold breeze that blew through the streets and narrow alleys, whipping hair and scarves around and shaking the few pieces of vegetation found dotted around the concrete forest.  
It was odd that we hadn’t slowed much yet, by now we ought to be entering deeper into Gotham, our progress becoming stunted by red lights and pedestrian crosses, but instead our journey was smooth and the scenery outside my window was unfamiliar – though it was hard to truly tell in the fading light.   
Maybe Miles knew about a traffic accident he wanted to avoid? Even with this thought, something still niggled in my mind that, at this time of the day, an accident wouldn’t slow us anymore than usual so there really was no point in trying to avoid it. It left me with a feeling of unease.  
“Different route tonight Miles?” I leant forward and questioned the dirty blond hair on the back of his head  
“Just a short-cut mam.” He assured me, though his eyes never left the road. I didn’t believe him - everyone could be bought. It was a cynical look on life, but, having spent so much time relatively deep in the dealings of the Penguins, I was soon learning it to be completely true.  
Not that there was anything I could do. I just leaned back in my seat and waited for fate to reach me, pretty certain of who was behind it.  
Each time we slowed down slightly I felt my heart rate increase at the fear that we had reached our destination. I pushed down my distress and tried to keep myself collected - if I had learnt one thing in my many dealings with the man, it was that my panic and fear got me nowhere.  
We kept to the outskirts of Gotham, weaving through streets that became ever more deserted. We must have been near the docks because the roads were lined with warehouses, most of the windows boarded up or smashed and a few with doors hanging off hinges. What a lovely spot.  
Eventually the car did stop and I couldn’t prevent the panic kicking in now. I remained sat in my seat mentally preparing myself, noticing Miles shoot me a look of pity and guilt through the rear view mirror. When I met his eye he glanced away sharply, my stomach dropped a bit further - I felt like I had just been condemned.  
A suited torso appeared outside my window and then the door was opened and Johnny Frost filled my exit.  
“Evening [Y/N].” He greeted with a sad smile.  
“Hi Johnny.” I sighed back at him. He gave me his hand and helped me out of the car. I stood in the bitter night air and wrapped my arms around myself, rubbing my sleeves rapidly to get any meagre heat from the friction.   
I looked around at the immediate vicinity and it wasn’t cheerful. We had pulled up outside one of the many abandoned buildings now decorated with broken boards and graffiti. “Lovely location.” I muttered to myself and I saw Johnny smirk slightly out the corner of my eye. I turned to face him; he wore his usual black suit and crisp white shirt and, unlike me, seemed immune to the cold air that lashed around us. I looked at him expectantly.   
“Just down that alleyway.” He instructed me briefly gesturing with a long arm over my shoulder.  
“Aren’t you coming?” I asked when I started in the direction he had pointed.   
“No, boss told me not to.” He explained but he didn’t look happy about. It was definitely odd – this was Johnny Frost - the Jokers personal bodyguard/carer – you never saw one without the other. Admittedly he wasn’t exactly far away, but he wouldn’t to react as quickly or jump in if anything happened, and he probably hadn’t forgiven himself yet for the last time. But the Joker must have some twisted reason it so I gave Johnny a look of pity and a shrug of confusion before turning to walk towards the alley.  
“Oh, Johnny?” I questioned turning back to him, “How is he?” - I wanted to know what I was walking into.  
“I don’t really know,” he paused in thought, “he went completely insane - I mean more than usual - for about 3 days.” He admitted. “But recently he seems to be calm…” he trailed off uncertainly.  
That worried me more. When he was in a temper I could hope to predict his actions, but if he was acting controlled who knew what he was up to – his murderous self could be close to the surface for any sudden change in mood.   
I nodded to Johnny slightly and he gave me a look of pity which didn’t really add to my confidence. I turned and made my way to the edge of the warehouse attempting to avoid the broken glass that pebbled the uneven pavement. I took a deep breath of the contaminated city air and turned the corner so I faced into the depths of the shadows.   
It was dark - too dark to make much out apart from a few large rusted rubbish bins that stood at my end of alley; the rest vanished into the gloom of the evening. My arms remained wrapped around my figure to try to hold in the heat of my body. I stepped cautiously deeper between the two buildings watching warily for any sign of movement that my meagre sight could show me.  
After moving a few metres into the darkness I stopped and waited anxiously. The suspense was getting to my nerves and I wasn’t sure if I was shaking from the cold anymore. I thought I heard something behind me and I whipped around towards the bins that lined the brick walls to my left. I couldn’t see anything, but I still had to force myself to breathe.  
Then I heard his cold laugh, “Ha Ha Haaaaa”, each ‘Ha’ was distinct and flawless in the night air, the noise resonating against the barricade of walls on either side of me so I couldn’t determine the direction of the amusement.  
I stood still knowing there was no use in trying to find him, besides he would eventually find me when he wanted to. I turned back towards the deeper part of the alley, knowing that’s where he would be. I closed my eyes to keep myself composed, the darkness feeling more pure behind my eyes lids.  
I felt a presence to my right. It moved behind me and to my left - it was circling me. I kept my eyes closed - I felt safer like this - as if I could imagine myself somewhere, anywhere other than here, maybe in my bed in my flat, locked up tight and safe. But then a gust of the winter air blew down the narrow backstreet forcing my hair to whip against my cheeks and I was slapped back to my state.  
I snapped my eyes open, and visibly flinched as my vision was filled with the stony eyes of the Joker no more than an inch away. He exhaled as he saw my eyes and the air bushed my upper lip making me shiver.  
He noticed my reaction and a grin spread from ear to ear but his eyes didn’t soften. He inhaled deeply and sighed, “You smell lovely you know baby…” he breathed.  
“Gunpowder.” I stated smartly, my voice quiet and weak. He chortled at me.  
“Hmm…” He breathed, “I know…” His words came out in an animalistic purr and I felt every muscle weaken. He didn’t move, he just stood there breathing deeply with his eyes closed.  
He then abruptly swung backwards to stand up straight a few feet away his smile still plastered onto his pale face. Today he wore grey jogging bottoms with arkham written down the leg. His chest was bare, as - I quickly releasing - per his usual style, under his open purple crocodile trench coat that hung from his figure. Obviously none of these men can feel the cold.  
He seemed to shake himself out of whatever thought pattern his deranged mind had chosen and he loudly clapped his hands together “Now,” He growled, “business.” My mouth was dry and I swallowed pointlessly. “I’d hate our little relationship,” he gestured between us, “to be left in the state it was…” he gave me a mock frown. “And now I’ve been unceremoniously barred from pengie’s little hovel so I’ve had to invent my own little way to get our date night!” He explained and I could just make out his metal grill in the light from the street lamp on the road behind me. Our little relationship?! Date night?!  
I didn’t say anything to this, keeping my face straight. He wasn’t going to break me. If he wanted to kill me after what I did fine, but I wasn’t going to lose my dignity over it – I wasn’t going to let him break me again.  
“Ooo, gone all stoic have we?!” he giggled manically, “bit of a change from the other night isn’t?!” I didn’t move which just made him giggle even more, “Gotta admit you got quite a slap baby!”  
I could feel my face colour at this – was that truly a compliment from the man or was he winding me up?  
“Is that a blush I see on your cheeks my dolly?” he lunged forward and grasped my chin pulling me up close to his face again, “I mean it my kitten – few get one up on me…” he murmured lowly studying my eyes and I feared he could read my every emotion. “Not sure if I should kill you or…” he trailed off, his eyes dropping to my lips. I licked them unconsciously and he pupils seemed to dilate.  
He shoved himself back again suddenly and then I felt a burning heat on my left cheek and I toppled to my right with the force and shock of the slap. “Now were even.” He acknowledged unconcerned and detached. As I righted myself I felt my other cheek smart and I found myself toppling to my left, this time overbalancing and throwing my arms out to catch myself. Before I made contact with the floor however, I felt strong arms wrap around my torso so I hung suspended over the tarmac, my eyes stinging with the tears I was fighting back. He face hovered by my cheek, “And one for luck!” he whispered in my ear with amusement colouring his voice before tugging me back upright.  
I bit back every retort that flooded my mind – I didn’t want to earn myself anymore - possibly more permanent - injuries.  
He eyed me with interest at my lack of response to his assaults, “Looks like my kitten has learnt her lesson,” he looked impressed briefly before he paused, “How boring.” He sighed with a frown. His grin then flashed back onto his face as if he had an idea – I’m not sure I wanted to know what though.  
“Whilst I have you here doll…” he purred, “How about we return to our conversation that was so rudely interrupted the other night?” he tilted his head at me with the question, “so can I have my apology?” he pouted at me and batted his eye lids mockingly.  
“I apologise Mr Joker.” I said, my voice croaking from the lack of use. The quicker I get this over the better, I thought. I wasn’t sure how many mind games I could cope with, hopefully if I kept my responses simple it would be find - he wouldn’t be able to manipulate me - if I tried to be clever I knew he would trip me up like before.  
“What for?” He pressed, his eyes unblinking.  
“I apologise Mr Joker for destroying the club.” I recited robotically. His upper lip curled up slightly in a snarl at my mocking, but then his face softened with another change of mood.  
“Going for the polite [Y/N] tonight? How…. Easy.” He said looking disappointed at me like I had ruined the punch line of his joke. “And I had a whole evening planned out for us.” He grinned lifting his arms above his head and to the side. I could see the toned muscles in his arm flex with the movement and it caused his coat to rise up slightly giving me a better view of his chiselled abdomen and the inked images that decorated it.  
“You like what you see baby?” He questioned slyly, “It’s rude to stare you know.” But he didn’t sound particularly chiding. His arms dropped down and my head snapped up from my day dream of reaching out to touch his skin - to confirm to myself if it would feel like the cool marble I imagined. I met his eyes and he was watching me intently, his eyes bright with his insanity.  
“I could say the same to you.” I muttered and he let out a loud manic laugh.  
“You interest me doll.” He prowled closer to me again, closing the gap between us. He gripped my chin again. He seemed to have something against personal space. “Why target my club?” He murmured - his mind still on the night of the explosion, though mine had been distracted. I wondered if he was really addressing me, or if he was just thinking aloud “Have you always worked for the Penguin?” he growled lowly.  
I shook my head the tiny bit that I could in his firm grasp. “No.”  
“Someone else perhaps?” He purred tilting his head at me, continuing to stare into my eyes as if to see the real truth.  
“No.” I breathed. He closed his eyes as my breath hit his cheek. Then, abruptly his mind seemed to snap again and his grip tightened on my chin so that I could practically feel the bruises forming.  
“Why don’t I believe you?” He whispered through gritted teeth, his temper flaring. I gasped at his grip and struggled, swinging my head from side to side to try to dislodge myself from his painful fingers. He grinned manically at my struggle, not altering his grip. I gave up and couldn’t bite back the pain any longer letting out a small whimper in defeat.  
“It’s not my fault you’re a narrow minded freak!” I screeched out, my words slightly mumbled by the fact I couldn’t move my jaw very well and the pain overwhelming me.  
“Freak am I?! Narrow minded am I?!” He snarled. “Now my interesting little [Y/N] is back!” He seemed pleased about this, his mood having altered again, but I could see his temper lurked close to the surface. All these changes were giving me whiplash. He released my chin and jumped back a bit to give me space to double over slightly rubbing my chin in an attempt to force life back into my jaw.  
“Enlighten me doll!” he exclaimed smiling a toothy grin but a warning still simmered in his eyes. “Whatcha do it for kitten?” he purred dangerously.  
“Revenge.” I spat at him, anger clouding my judgment and behaviour.  
“Ooo a feisty kitten!” His eyes brightened with excitement, “but baby I’ve done a lot of bad things,” he raised his arms out wide again and shrugged, as if he couldn’t help the fact that he had done so many illegal things in his time, “so you’re gonna have to narrow it down doll – whatcha want revenge for?” he smirked at his little game.  
“For the club. For me.” I never meant to tell him, but now I couldn’t stop my tongue.  
I saw confusion flash across his face briefly before it was replaced with his usual smile. “So many tiny people seek revenge doll,” he murmured as if thinking to himself, “most tend to go with killing me though kitten, so why didn’t you?”  
“As if I stood a chance of getting anywhere near you!” I scoffed, my temper flaring at his blatantly uncaring attitude. He nodded, impressed at my reasoning apparently.  
His mind must have flickered to a yet another new thought pattern because his grin stretched even wider. “I have a gun.” He pointed out and his hand moved into his jacket. I watched him carefully and saw him pull his own revolver out of its holster. He stepped up to me and took my right hand placing the gun on my palm and closing my fingers around the grip. “Now you pull the trigger.” He murmured into my ear, before stepping back to his original spot, his arms spread out in a crucifixion pose.  
“You’ve got the skills now doll. Go on, do it! Watch it all go away.” he beamed crazily. “Do it!” he demanded and I looked down at the gun in my hand. This was my chance, my chance to end it.   
You don’t want to be a murderer I thought, but I already was, wasn’t I? I had killed 2 people to save the man before me – what was one more life really? A life I regretted saving - a life I would have taken anyway if I could have, rather than destroy the club. I could solve Gotham’s biggest problem with just one bullet, one bullet and one target that was by no way hard to miss and there was no resistance. Nothing.  
“Go on, do it, do it, do it…” I could hear the Joker mumbling and I could feel his eyes on me as I eyed the gun in my hand. Decision made.  
I lifted the gun and aimed it directly in front of me at the Joker. Under his darkened brow his eyes watched the gun as it rose and then his eyes moved to mine. I couldn’t see him clearly from clearly in the dark, but the image of his face was so ingrained in my mind I could practically see the cool blue depths of his eyes and the tattoos on his face crinkling with the grin that stretched his pale complexion. His insanity seemed to consume him and I could almost feel it creeping towards me.  
My finger moved to rest on the trigger. Seeing this he tossed his head and released his signature laugh ‘Ha Ha Haaa’ like I had heard first thing that night. A fitting goodbye I thought as I flexed my finger and the shot was fired.  
The Joker fell back in silence; the only noise was his body hitting the floor with a muffled thud.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok Ive been finishing writing this and editing it for over 3 hours now and i’m pretty sure I’ve almost definitely missed bits so i apologise for anything that is not quite right!
> 
> I’m struggling to see where i’m going with my chapters at the moment - so bare with me! :S I’m also really worried my characters are falling out of character so I really apologise - i’ll try to pull them back!
> 
> Anyway - here it is! Please comment anything you’d like, I would love to do some requests so if you have any let me know! Thank you for reading!

I couldn’t believe my eyes when I saw the Joker’s body flat on his back. His skin seemed even whiter with the contrast against black tarmac beneath him. That shouldn’t have happened. I didn’t do that.  
Now I was faced with the consequences of my actions. I threw the gun that was still in my hand to the side blindly. Above the clatter of the gun hitting the ground I heard footsteps slapping the floor behind me and then Frost was next to me. Without thinking I turned and embraced him letting the tears fall down my face as the shock set in. I felt him hesitate at my unexpected contact but then his strong arms held me against his body as my chest racked with sobs.  
I had fired the gun – true - but I had ensured that my aim had been just to the right of his body. I had wanted to call him on his bluff of firing the gun, but I didn’t want to kill him. I couldn’t. Something seemed to stop me every time I was given the opportunity to rid the world of the mad man.  
So what had happened? Had something altered my aim at the last minute? Had there been a strong gust of wind? Had there actually been any wind? I couldn’t even remember the moment now – my mind was woolly with shock and confusion.  
I could vaguely feel myself mumbling incoherently into Frost’s Jacket but I wasn’t really aware of what I was saying. Frost hadn’t said anything and I couldn’t see his reaction to the situation because my face was buried into his solid chest.  
I was finding it difficult to breathe now and I pulled my face away from his suit feeling the cold hair hit my clammy cheeks. I blinked my puffy eyes up at Frost. His eyes were hard and he was staring at the body.   
“What happened?” He croaked out without looking at me. I explained as best as I could between my hiccups and sniffs.  
“Is he dead?” he asked quietly. I was about to confirm this when I had a thought – I hadn’t actually checked. I spun around, quickly and Frost’s arm dropped from my back as I dashed the short distance to the body, throwing myself down on my knees at the Joker’s side. Frost moved up behind me again and shone a torch onto the body.  
The artificial light seemed to make the scene sicker to me and I heard myself mumble to myself, ‘Oh no, no, no…” The lids of his eyes had a lilac hue to them where they were closed and his sharp cheekbones made him look skeletal and gaunt. The usual slicked back green hair lay splayed out chaotically on the asphalt where it had been dislodged from the fall. His painted lips were neutral – the red colour now only reminding me of blood, his blood. Those lips wouldn’t slide into his signature smile anymore.  
I felt a tear roll down my cheek and brushed it away angrily, maybe he wasn’t gone yet – maybe I could still stop this. I moved my gaze down to his torso, searching his body for the bullet hole. I had attempt to shoot just to the right of his chest but I could see no damage to his coat that still lay partially across his abdomen. I pushed the purple reptile skin aside to see if I had somehow managed to avoid his coat.  
There was nothing, no wound, no blood, just his beautiful toned chest, inked with his rows of ‘HAHAHA’ and his muscles outlined clearly even in the dim lighting.  
That was impossible. He had to have an entrance wound. I shifted myself position so I was by his head again. I moved my hand to his neck to feel for a pulse. My hand hesitated above his skin – I was tentative to touch him, it had always seem a forbidden action to touch him – apart from to slap him of course. Now is not the time to worry about this! I scolded myself.  
My fingers made contact with his skin gently and I wasn’t surprised at the icy feel. I applied more pressure and moved my fingers searching for a pulse. A lone tear escaped the corner of my eye and before I could wipe it away it fell to land just below his lips.  
From the corner of my eye I saw his mouth move and his tongue flicker out to the droplet that lay on his skin. His tongue then retreated and his mouth spread into a wide grin, his silver caps capturing the torch light. My hand was motionless in shock on his throat. I didn’t dare move, I felt like a deer caught in headlights. My eyes travelled up to meet his which were staring at me. When our eyes met I felt his chest begin to rise up and down, his familiar laughing ringing out into the silent alley, starting low and quiet and then building till he was visibly shaking with the power of his laugh.  
I shoved him away angrily and pushed myself to my feet.  
“Aww doll, you should see your face! You care –it’s so touching baby!” He grinned at me. I wiped my tears away from my cheeks angrily, annoyed that I showed this monster any emotion.  
“You’re an ass!” I hissed at him not caring what he would do.  
I heard him chuckling to himself as I strode away, wiping my damp cheeks on angry tears, as I headed toward the end of the alley.  
I felt a presence follow me and I knew it wasn’t the Joker from the walk – was it bad that I knew how he walked that well? – it must have been Johnny but I didn’t turn until I had reached the road.  
“You knew what he was going to do and you didn’t tell me!” I screeched, rounding on him. He looked a little stunned at my sudden outburst, and at least had the good courtesy to bow his head in guilt, but I wasn’t going to forgive him.  
“Take me home!” I demanded at Miles who still remained stood by the driver’s door of the car, his arm crossed against the cold that I could no longer feel over my rage. He glanced at Johnny who shrugged and then looked over his shoulder as the Joker appeared from the alley. He seemed to have recovered from his laughing fit and had attempted to smooth his hair back into place, though it still had a tousled look to it. His eyes were on me but his face was serious, as though deep in thought. He nodded his consent so I turned on my heel without a word and I strode to the passengers door of the car. Miles went to open my door but I slapped his hand away and I hauled the door open furiously and threw myself down in my chair before slamming the door shut. I didn’t look out the window – I didn’t want to acknowledge his existence anymore. Let him remain dead on the tarmac like I thought he had been.  
I grabbed my gun that I had left on the seat previously and cradled it in my lap. The next person who tried to stop me from going home was going to end up on the floor and was not going to get back up this time.  
I didn’t look up when Miles got in the car and for the entire journey I remained seething in silence.  
When we pulled up outside the club I threw my own door open again and didn’t acknowledge Miles in the slightest as I stomped up to the entrance.  
Once in my flat I locked my door tight and checked all my windows were clamped shut - though I was certain that wouldn’t stop anyone I knew from getting in if they really wanted to. I then curled myself up in bed with several layers of blankets and, though I wondered if sleep would actually find me tonight, it didn’t take long before I was unconscious.  
The next day, was normal apart from the thoughts that whirled around my head.  
What the hell had happened last night?! What had the Joker to gain from last night’s theatrics?! But did he need to be able to gain anything really? Wasn’t it all just about ‘fun’ for him? Did he just get bored and need some entertainment, sid he just need a mind to mess with?   
If that was the case though, why go through so much trouble to get me in particular? Why not just chose any poor soul of the street?   
So why mess with me? Was I that fun to ruin? How could he have been certain I wouldn’t have truly shot him? And what had he hoped to gain from pretending to be dead – to just mess with my mind?  
But why had I reacted the way I did? Looking back I remembered all my emotions before I had realised he was faking – I had been in serious pain, the idea of him dead had hurt me a lot. But why? He was a horrible person, and had never been nice to me. I would be lying if I said I didn’t find his attractive – everyone did – but that shouldn’t result in such a violent reaction to his death should it?  
These thoughts floated and collided within my mind and I talked myself round in circles whilst continuing my daily routine. He truly was driving me insane. I needed to stay away from him. At least he was banned from the club – last night was a one off meeting. I’d just stop going to the gun range to prevent any further chances, although the thought of not being able to practise my shooting anymore made my heart drop a bit. It would be for the best though.

That night I went down to the club earlier than usual to try to get away from my thoughts, hoping the pounding music and mindless chatter would drown them out.I made my way to the side of the stage to await my turn and looked out at the crowd drinking, dancing and yelling over the noise at each other. I had to do a double take when I saw Frost stood by his usual booth. That could only mean that he was here, and that was impossible - Penguin had said he was banned – and surely there was no way he could have gotten in here if Penguin didn’t give permission – what were they playing at. I was starting to get annoyed at all these crime lords.  
Before I knew it my turn had come to perform and I was stepping out onto the stage. I vented my anger and frustration through loud, high attitude songs but throughout my performance I kept glancing over to where Johnny stood. He didn’t move he just remained stood in the same position guarding the chairs, surveying the crowd. The Joker never showed.  
Once my set finished I wandered off the stage more confused and frustrated than when I had started. I began to walk back to my flat with the dream of a nice cup of tea and my pyjamas filling my mind when I saw Grimms waiting for me backstage yet again – probably to ask yet another favour.  
“[Y/N]!” He called over to me and I gave him a weak smile in greeting as I wandered over to him. “Mr Penguin would like to see you in his office.” He instructed me before consulting his clipboard in his hands.  
I was a bit taken aback by this, but I nodded anyway. The Penguin never called me in to see him, why did he want to talk now? Was this about the Joker? When Grimms didn’t say anything else to me I took it as my leave to go so I headed towards the staff corridor and walked to the far end where the navy door stood with its silver umbrella etched into it at head height. I took a deep breath and knocked smartly on the door.  
“Enter.” Called a familiar voice and I turned the handle, pushing the door open and stepping in. Penguin sat behind his dark wood desk leaning back in a large leather chair. He wore a black suit with a white shirt and a purple waistcoat. A purple bowtie was wrapped around his thick, non-existent neck and the chain of his monocle hung down against his waistcoat before disappearing under his suit jacket. His usual cigarette hung from his lips and a hazy cloud of smoke hung around his person.  
But he wasn’t what caught my eye upon entering the room. Sat, very relaxed, in one of the smaller leather chairs in front of Penguins desk, was the Joker. At the sound of the door he had turned in his seat to face me, his eyes serious, but on recognising me he broke into a grin and I thought I saw his eyes lighten slightly.  
“Ah, miss [Y/N],” greeted Penguin, “please take a seat.” He said gesturing to the chair next to the Joker. I hesitated but moved to sit in the chair, avoiding looking at the Joker; I decided I was going to ignore him as much as possible.  
Once I was seated the silence between us seemed to echo around the room. Penguin was bent over his desk, sifting through papers, as if oblivious to his guests in front of him. The Joker, from what I could see out of the corner of my eye, was staring over his left shoulder at the wall, as if there was something requiring his whole there attention.  
I was acutely aware of every movement and breath and was attempting to stay as still as quiet as possible so I didn’t bring any attention to myself, whilst wondering how the hell I had got in this situation where I was sat between two of the biggest crime lords of Gotham.  
Eventually Penguin shuffled a pile of papers together and dropped them into a drawer in his desk. He then finally looked up fixing me with a beady eye. “Miss [Y/N],” he addressed me pompously, “The Joker here has requested a meeting with you my dear.” He informed me leaning back in his chair and folding his hands over his rotund stomach. I didn’t know what to say to this, so I remained sat in silence. So much for trying to ignore, he had requested me? Wasn’t he banned from the club? How did he even get in here to ask Penguin? Don’t be stupid [Y/N] – he is the King of Gotham – he can do whatever he wants – the only reason he is banned from the club is because he wants to be - Penguin would only oppose him so far.  
Sensing I wasn’t going to respond, Penguin continued. “An arrangement has been made between myself and Mr Joker for this to be possible.” I opened my mouth to retort, but I was quelled by the dark look given to me beneath Penguins thick eyebrows. “Not to worry my dear,” sneered Penguin, “Part of the deal is that he will not physically harm you in anyway during the exchange – isn’t that right Joker?” he questioned the green haired man next to me.  
I looked at the Joker properly now. He sprawled out in the chair in complete ease. His legs were splayed open, his right leg swung over the arm rest of the chair, the left in a normal position. He had his purple cane with him this evening, he leant on it with his left hand over the side of the chair. A small part of me wanted to knock it out from under him to watch him topple out of the chair. He had been staring at the edge of Penguins desk, mouth slightly opened as he breathed, zoned out in his own mind. When addressed by Penguin his lips twitched and he came out of whatever twisted thoughts he’d been engaged in and lifted his gaze to Penguin’s.  
“Of course.” He affirmed with a mock innocent smile before shifting his gaze to me and giving me a wide sinful grin. I shot him a dark look and scowled – this just seemed to amuse him and his grin widened even more, laughter dancing in his eyes.   
Penguin ignored our little interaction, “I have granted use of this office – do try to keep your hands off things that are not yours.” He warned shooting the Joker a look which the Joker ignored completely, his eyes still on me. “And now, I have business that needs attending to.” He stated as he rose to his feet, grabbing his hat with his sausage fingers and placing it primly on his balding head. He hobbled around his desk to pick up one of his many umbrellas that hung from hooks on the wall. I turned in my seat to watch as he limped out the office with his makeshift walking stick. He didn’t close the door behind him and I stood up quickly and turned towards the door for a quick escape. Before I had taken more than a step, however, Frost had appeared in the doorway blocking my only escape. I stopped dead in my tracks and felt my heart rate increase. Dam.   
Then I noticed I couldn’t see the green hair in the chair on my right anymore. I felt my breath hitch in my throat. I made to turn around, but before I could my upper arms were gripped painfully tightly by bleached white hands.  
“Let’s have a chat.” He breathed lowly in my ear and I could feel his manic smile spread across his face.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys - this one is a bit shorter than usual. i apologise now, it's not great as I kind of improvised the whole chapter and I'm not hugely happy with it - I am also quite sleep deprived but I really wanted to get this one out of the way so I can get to a part that I know what is happening in!  
> Sorry bits are a bit cheesy!  
> Enjoy :)

I felt a shiver run down my spine at his words in my ear. Frost stood in the doorway with his hands folded neatly in front of him. His gaze was fixed over my shoulder and I saw his head incline in a nod before he stepped back and closed with a click.  
I saw the door ahead as my goal and I attempted to pull my arm away from the cool grip, but instead the grasp on it tightened and I felt myself spun around violently so I faced him. I threw my arms out in reaction to prevent myself toppling over and my hands caught on his chest, steadying myself.  
Then, before I could collect myself, his lips were pressed firmly against mine. They a welcome coolness compared to my flustered skin and the shock of it made my hands instinctively tensed against his jacket, gripping the silver lapels and causing his black shirt to bunch and crinkle underneath.  
The kiss was assertive and demanding, soon overwhelming my mind and senses until I was reciprocating the kiss. It felt like a battle between us, each trying to outdo the other in the strength and force of our kiss.  
He eventually pulled away so his face was inches away from me. He eyes were dark under his brow and his pupils were dilated. His mouth open slightly as he watched my reaction, his ragged breathing blew against my swollen upper lip and I could feel myself gulping at the air, my heart rate racing.  
“I’ve been wondering what that would feel like for a while now baby.” He purred lowly against my ear.  
I blinked rapidly to bring myself out of my lust clouded mind. What did I just do?! His grin widened with my look of bewilderment and his eyes had a hunger to them which brought me abruptly brought to reality. I needed to stop this.  
“Can I leave now?” I squeaked out, my voice cracking with nerves. He snarled a grin at me began to circle around me, his metal teeth bared as he surveyed me.  
“Ah baby, you not enjoying my company?” he mocked, but his eyes were still dark – daring me to push him and face the consequences.  
“I never have.” I retorted with the little bravery I could find, trying to keep composed under his intense stare. My head followed his movements and he prowled around me and I noticed his gun holster beneath his jacket with his signature purple gun held in place.   
He stopped his in front of me, his eyes not leaving my face. He then lunged at me without warning, gripping either side of my face with his hands, and bringing me back within a few inches of his. His icy blue glare was unrelenting and held my eyes but I was hyperaware of the entire length of his body so close to mine, as if it gave off a radiation that heated my body.  
“Forgive me if I don’t believe you doll.” He purred, and my eyes dropped to the movement of his lips, millimetres from my own. I had to seriously resist the urge to lean forward to close the gap and feel the passion I had been enveloped in moments before.  
What was I thinking? This man was clearly driving me insane. My mind was hazy and drunk on his close proximity and my common sense had seemed to have vanished and I had no control over my body.  
I took a deep breath to calm myself, clear my mind and bring some control back to my muscles but I immediately regretted it. His scent filled my lungs and only clouded my mind further. It was intoxicating and inebriating. I was drunk in the rich scent of tobacco and gunpowder mixed with a strong masculine cologne. I closed my eyes to try to restrain my behaviour and I heard him chuckle lowly in front of me.  
“You’re drunk on my very presence.” He breathed in my ear and I swallowed thickly. Something about the kiss had snapped something in me. How could I have these feelings for this maniac? This killer. The man that had driven me from my club.  
That did it. The haze over my mind shattered and my eyes ripped open. I somehow found the use of my limbs and I shoved into him, taking him by surprise and propelling him into Penguins desk causing him to knock over a pen pot and scatter a few documents into the air so they drifted serenely to the floor.  
I looked in shock at the result of my actions before I quickly backed away till I collided with the office door, my eyes not leaving the Joker. Without moving my gaze I reached behind me with one hand to twist the old brass door handle. It resisted my turns. I whirled around grabbing at the handle with both hands and attempting to twist and jiggle the metal as if somehow, out of pure will, I could get it to open. I let out a whimper when I realised how hopeless it was – Frost has locked the door.  
Giving up I turned back around to face my consequences. The joker had righted himself and the devil was in his eyes as bared his teeth and moved cat-like towards me, his hand on his gun holster.  
“You make it very hard to be nice doll.” He growled lowly, his tone dripping with menace. I pressed my back up against the door, practically on my tiptoes to try to get as far away from his as physically possible. He moved slowly eyeing me, calculating like a predator with its prey.  
Murder was in his eyes as, with one swift motion, pulled out his gun and lunged at me, pinning me to the door with his body so I couldn’t move and shoving his pistol up into the chin. “Care to tell me what that little stunt was for kitten?” he rumbled dangerously, glaring at me.  
Fear must have overwhelmed me because I broke down. Tears began to run rivers down my cheeks and sobs racked my body choking myself of air.  
“If it hadn’t been for my little promise to Pengie you’d be dead by now doll.” He sneered, wrapping one hand around my already tight throat so my air supply was nearly completely cut off. I could no longer make a noise, but it didn’t stop the tears falling down my face.  
He noticed this and his grip tightened and he placed more pressure up into my chin with the gun as though, if he could apply enough force, he could shut off my tears. I silently gasped for air and my hands hopelessly clawed and pulled at his hand around my throat, ignoring the gun. Soon I began to feel light headed and I gave up trying to breath. My muscles were weakening and I could barely do more than weakly paw at his grip. Without warning my legs gave way beneath me and I collapsed towards the floor until I felt hands grab at my shoulders.  
He held me up with both hands like a doll as I tried to gulp for oxygen. My throat stung and I could already feel the bruises forming from his fingers. “I feel like you’re holding something back from me kitten – don’t.” He growled warningly and I tried to restrain my tears and swallow my sobs but the motion caused my throat to throb like a bitch. Why could I still not breathe?  
“M-my cl-club.” I choked out with the limited air I could get through my sobs and swollen trachea.  
“There it is again. Your club.” He stated, “Why is it suddenly your club?” He questioned to himself, his tone relatively calm for him, though I knew his threats could return without warning.   
I had assumed he had been talking to himself but when I didn’t say anything he shook my shoulders like I was a rag doll, causing my head become more distorted and my feeble muscles to wobble.  
“Answer me!” he growled. I looked at him confused – what was the question again? My head must still be affected by the lack of oxygen and fear. No thought would remain in my head. I heard his words but I couldn’t recall them to answer.  
When I still didn’t answer he slammed me backwards causing my head to connect with the sharply with the office door making a sickening crack. The pain was excruciating and it pierced through my skull, blacking out my mind and causing me to gasp out in agony.  
“I strongly suggest you start talking now doll.” He advised lowly his voice laced with untold threats. I whimpered pitifully, barely hearing his words or threats, as the ache spread along the back of my head and my head lolled from side to side as I tried to dissipate the pain anyway I could.  
I continued to pant for air that didn’t exist and the throbbing of my skull had spread to my forehead. I scrunched my eyes closed against the radiating discomfort and found my head was now too heavy to keep upright so I let it hang down so my chin rested on my chest. It seemed to ease the pain slightly, but certainly didn’t help with my breathing.  
I could feel a heavy cloud of exhaustion overcome me but it was even late in the evening. What was going on?  
“Answer me doll!” The Joker demanded at my fading form. He grip on my shoulders loosened slightly and I felt myself drop as my legs gave way and even my feet wouldn’t stay, causing me to go over on my ankles.  
Luckily the Joker’s reactions were quick and he caught me before I fell into a heap. “[Y/N]?!” Did I hear a hint of concern in his voice – had he finally caught on that something wasn’t right?   
My eyelids were flickering as I put all my energy into keeping them open. I couldn’t see him clearly anymore - just fuzzy flashes of green and silver behind my eyelashes.  
“[Y/N]?! Stay awake!” he growled at me but my eyelids were too heavy now. I could feel him shaking me again, trying to get me to stay upright and awake, but his motions felt miles away and, though I felt the shakes, it no longer felt like it was my body.  
The air was running out. I kept inhaling but I might as well have been in a vacuum, nothing seemed to enter my lungs. There was no relief. It was like I was drowning, except if I was at least I would have some relief in my lungs – this felt like there was nothing to inhale.  
I tried one last time to gulp and, with the emptiness weighing on both my lungs and heart, I was gone.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone - finally done the next part! It is quite long and I’ve only just finished it, but I wanted to get it out tonight but I also need to get to bed as I do need to get up tomorrow so I apologise for any grammar/spelling mistakes etc. 
> 
> Thank you for everyone who is still reading - I really appreciate all the support! Let me know what you think!
> 
> Enjoy!

The scent of disinfectant and cheap lemony air freshener filled my lungs as I slowly opened my eyes, only to be met with more darkness. My head felt like it was stuffed with cotton wool and I blinked a few times until my eyes adjusted and I could make out the vague silhouettes of furniture. I felt - rather than saw - what I was lying on. It was a rather uncomfortable bed with springs that twisted into my spine. My left cheek was lying on a coarse pillow so I was facing a large window which filtered in strips of weak artificial light from the streets outside between the partially closed blinds.   
I shifted my vision to the foot of my bed and noticed the outline of a floor to ceiling curtain that ran from the wall on my left and continued round to my right creating the small room I was in. My skull ached but I defiantly began to lift my head to better observe the rest of the room. Then I heard the sound of footsteps and voices and I hastily dropped my head back onto the pillow. I winced at the pain as my head bounced back onto the bed.  
“- footage report from the evening.” Rang out a familiar voice from behind the curtain wall. I heard a growl in response. I would know that growl anywhere – the Joker. Which would mean the other voice was exactly who I thought it was – Frost.  
“It showed Miss [L/N] talking to a Mr Oliver Grimms before walking to the staff corridor. She was seen to be intercepted at the edge of the bar and handed a drink. She then appeared to drink it, place the glass on the bar and then make her way to the Penguin’s office. Nothing else was seen to happen until she entered the office.” As Frost spoke his voice travelled from the bottom of my room to my right. I quickly turned back to my original position and closed my eyes, pretending to be asleep as I heard the movement of the curtain and the slight clink of the plastic rings suspending the fabric.  
“Sir, would it not be better to discuss this somewhere more suitable?” questioned Frost as his voice travelled into the sectioned off area that was my room. The joker snarled at Frost and that was answer enough for anyone. I tried to remain as still as possible. I didn’t want them to know I was awake, I felt like Joker wasn’t telling me something – and why would he? But I wanted to see if I could gain any information he wasn’t willing to say in front of me when I was conscious.  
The more I tried to stay still though, the more I became aware of every part of my body. My skull throbbed and I couldn’t think clearly – I even had to remind myself to breath a few times. Every part of my skin felt uncomfortable and I wanted to shift my position, though I didn’t in case I caused them to leave. Then my skin began to crawl and itch at every slight touch of material against me and I carefully clenched my fists under my hospital sheets to resist the urge to move.  
The room was silent and I didn’t know where the Joker was which made me nervous. I knew if he found out I was pretending to sleep he’d be more than mad so I prayed that I got away with this. Suddenly I heard his gruff voice from the foot of my bed, “Has she woken up yet?”  
“No sir.” Reported Frost, “But the doctor said she is stable and should come around at any point. She is fine apart from some slight head trauma that should heal after a short time.”  
I didn’t hear a response from the Joker in words, but I could sense his presence at the very end of my bed and I could feel his intense stare on the side of my face that was exposed. The silence hade me fearing that he suspected I was awake. All I could hear was my own breathing which I tried to keep deep and steady, as though I was peacefully resting, but it was hard when I could feel my heart pounding in my chest so hard I was short of breath. My palms sweating under my sheets and, if it was possible, it felt like they were suffocating - all I wanted was the cool air on them - but I didn’t dare move. I was just glad that I didn’t have a heart monitor linked up to me, because at the moment it would be going crazy.  
“Frost. Pull up the car.” The Joker ordered, breaking the silence, and I heard the curtain doorway open and closed again as - I presumed - Frost left to fulfil the instructions. But from what I could hear only one pair of footsteps had left the room. Was the Joker still in here with me?  
I didn’t move just in case. How long should I leave till I could deem it safe to move again?  
My thoughts ceased abruptly when a cold hand touched my clammy cheek and it took all I had to prevent myself from flinching. He moved his hand to brush strands of hair away from my face and behind my ear. The touch was tender and caring and it confused and slightly scared me that this came from the Joker. What was he doing?  
“Doll.” He murmured. Was he talking to me?! Did he know I was conscious?! “I’ll find them.” He promised before his hand disappeared from my head. I heard his footsteps travel around the bed and the now familiar movement of the curtain wall as he left. I remained still and silent for a few minutes to ensure he was truly gone before I opened my eyes again staring into the darkness in front of me in confusion and shock almost forgetting the pain that rang throughout my head.  
What the hell had just happened? I turned so I lay on my back and stared at the dark outlines of the ceiling panels above me, the pounding in my forehead now increasing as I tried to make sense of everything in my mind. Why had he touched me like that? What had happened to me? Who had he gone to find? What had Frost said? He had CCTV footage of the night? He’d said I stopped at the bar before going to see the Penguin. I didn’t remember that. Had I really been given a drink? I didn’t remember that either and I certainly didn’t remember drinking it. Had it been spiked? Is that what caused all this? But why? Was it just a scheme by some guy that wanted to take advantage of me and didn’t realise where I was going? In that case maybe it was for the best that I had gone to the meeting after all. But do you usually react so violently to spiked drinks? I’d never been spiked before, but I never thought it stopped you breathing and knock you out quite so badly you required hospitalisation.  
By now my pulsing of my skull was becoming too much to even attempt to think about all my unanswered ponderings and I had to close my eyes against the hammering. Never realising it, I fell back asleep.

I awoke again to the sound of a machine beeping beyond my curtain walls. When I tried to open my eyes I had to quickly close them again against the burn of the bright daylight and waited for the pain in my retinas to subside before squinting my eyes open cautiously.  
Now, in the light, I could see the blinds were a pale blue and a chest of drawers sat beneath the window which held a vase of plastic sickly yellow flowers. Next to this was a simple beige armchair and, as my eyes travelled across the glossy speckled grey flooring, my eyes landed on a small table by my bedside. This held a cheap lamp a smaller transparent glass vase with a single plastic flower matching those on the chest of drawers. Sat next to this was something that surprised me – my phone. I reached over twisted it over so that the screen faced me and lit up telling me it was just after 11am. There were no other notifications on my phone except for a few junk emails.  
I groaned as I shifted myself into a more upright position and the movement made my head spin a bit. I placed my head in hands, pressing my fingertips into my forehead, to stop the world spinning, only lifting my head when I heard footsteps close by.  
A nurse entered through the blue partitioning curtains and smiled at me when she saw I was awake. She was quite short women with bright white hair tied up into a bun and she wore a light blue scrub top with black trousers. “It’s good to see you up my dear.” She said warmly. I smiled back weakly but it was a poor attempt. I was confused, alone and couldn’t think straight. It was all a bit over whelming.  
“Do you know where you are sweetie?” she questioned sympathetically, moving close to the head of my bed and fiddling with some machines that sat above my headboard.  
“A hospital.” I said stupidly. I saw her nod in my peripheral vision; she then moved to my IV drip and checked the settings, altering it slightly.  
“Gotham General.” She clarified for me, ignoring my daft answer and glancing across at me. “Do you know why you’re here?” she continued to question.  
“I collapsed.”  
“Do you know why?” she pushed, turning to me and giving me her full attention now.  
I shook my head and instantly regretted it when my mind continued to shake after I had stopped moving. “Not really.” I admitted weakly.  
“Well, I think it’s best to let the doctor explain.” Stated the nurse, “I’ll go get her now and she can check up on you – see how you’re doing.” She added, giving me a small smile and removing herself from the room. As she left I caught a glimpse into the rest of the ward I was in. At least 8 other beds were in the rest of the room, but they were all empty. That’s strange I’d expect at least one of them to be in use. Was it a quiet time for the hospital at the moment? But then my glimpse of the outer ward was shut off as the curtain fell back into place.   
Whilst I waited for the doctor to come, I continued my inspection of my small cornered off area. My bed was a standard thin, mechanically operated, hospital bed with a plastic headboard and footboard. To my right was an IV drip which connected up to a needle that sat in the crease of my right elbow. Now that I knew it was there I could feel the needle in my arm and I tried not to fidget too much to prevent the uncomfortable movement under my skin.  
I lent my head back against the wall above the headboard of the bed onto the pale cream wall and closed my eyes letting out a little sigh. The contact and support of my head stopped it spinning so much. I breathed deeply, relishing in the fresh air that filled my lungs, though it stung against my dry throat. I rolled my head against the hard wall to look for a jug or glass of water around the room but there wasn’t any. I guess I’ll just have to ask when the nurse comes back.  
The doctor didn’t show for a while and I had begun to doze with my head prop up against the wall when I finally heard voices coming towards my section of the room. I opened my eyes and looked over to see the doctor pull back the curtain partition and hold it for the nurse to enter first.   
“Good morning [Y/N], I am Dr Gable, how are you feeling?” Greeted the doctor. She looked relatively young and had pale yellow hair pulled neatly back into a ponytail and dark red glasses perched perfectly on the bridge of her nose.  
“A bit dizzy but fine.” I told her, my throat aching with my words. “Actually my throats very sore – could I have some water?” I admitted sheepishly.  
“Oh course,” she said smiling at me and then turning to the nurse behind her who smiled in return and headed out the room – I assumed to get me some water.  
“Nurse Barrett tells me you don’t remember much from the incident.” I shook my head in response. “Well from what we gather from your test results you were submitted to some type of drug which caused the shut off of your breathing apparatus and then an inability to absorb oxygen into your blood.” She explained to me, pausing to make sure I understood that before continuing on, “This caused a slow reduction in the perfusion to your cells and subsequently caused a lack of oxygen to the brain which caused the dizziness you would have - and still possibly are – feeling. This eventually caused you to collapse.” She stated whilst consulting a clipboard of papers in her hands.  
She made her way to my IV drip and fiddled with it - similar to nurse Barrett - before completing a series of check-ups, testing my eye reflexes, blood pressure, heart rate, and breathing as well as numerous procedures that I didn’t know what she was testing.  
“Everything seems fine, most of your results are normal – and those that aren’t I wouldn’t expect to be yet.” She told me with an encouraging smile, “I’ll keep you here for another 24 hours to check nothing else is wrong and ensure your breathing remains normal, and then you should be free to go.” She said smiling at me. I gave her a weak smile back in acknowledgement and she left as the nurse re-entered with a plastic cup of water.  
She handed me the cup and I sipped it, swallowing gingerly, wincing slightly at the movement in my throat. The water soothed but also provoked my thirst and I greedily gulped down the rest, the searing pain feeling worth it to quench the need.  
“Better?” The nurse asked with a slight smirk at my eagerness and held her hand out for the cup.  
“Yes, thanks.” I said handing it to her. “Could I get another one?”  
“Sure.” She nodded and went to leave again. As she moved the curtain I got a glimpse of the empty ward again.  
“Can I ask,” I called to her, “why the ward is so empty – is the hospital quite quiet at the moment?” She turned back to me with a look of confusion on her face.  
“Oh no – we’re always busy.”  
“Then – sorry –“ I apologised quickly at my nosiness, “but why is the rest of this ward empty?”  
“The, uh, ‘man’ - if he can really be called a ‘man’ - demanded that you be kept in a private ward. No one was to enter except for one nurse - me - and the doctor assigned to you.” She told me, and I could hear a slight tone of annoyance or anger in her voice. I must have looked shocked but she continued, “A few people tried to convince him otherwise, but they were… silenced.” She trailed off quietly dropping her head to hide her face.  
She left quickly after that. I wanted to apologise, but it wasn’t really my fault, was it? It was his. Why did I feel so responsible for his behaviour? I was nothing to him.  
So why had he saved me? He obviously brought me here, though I had previously just assumed the Penguin had intervened again. Why didn’t he just let me die? And why did he have all these silly rules about how I was kept here? Why wasn’t anyone else allowed to see me? Why weren’t other people – probably a hell of a lot worse off than me – allowed to use the other hospital beds?  
All of these thoughts and questions haunted my mind and caused my skull to feel tighter, making me wince. My head became heavy and a wave of nausea swept over. I lay down and curled up into a ball on my side staring at the window at the overcast day that lay slipped between the blinds. I began to move myself slightly from side to side and it seemed to reduce the ill feelings. Before I knew it I had closed my eyes and rocked myself to sleep.  
When I woke up my room was dark - I must have slept the day away. I reached blindly into the darkness on my left hand side and my hand collided with the lamp before I fumbled to the switch and turned it on.  
The lamp took a while to warm up but it brought some of the darkness into more focus. The nurse had obliviously come in when I was asleep as a full cup of water sat next to my lamp on the table – thankfully I hadn’t knocked it over in my attempt to turn on the light. I noticed the blinds on the windows were now fully closed and the only other light apart from my lamp was a faint outline from other lights in the hospital that could be seen at the top and the bottom of my curtain wall.  
The ward was silent apart from the hum of the machines around me. A movement caught my eye and the light strips under the curtains vanished in strips – there was someone moving out there, blocking the light and casting shadows. I didn’t know what time it was but I was surprised anyone was around at this time of night – everything else seemed silent and peaceful.  
As I watched the bottom of the curtain a light flashing caught the corner of my eye. My phone was a light with a message. I looked at the screen – 2:34am and a message notification. I unlocked the phone - ‘Be careful’ it read - the contact was just a single letter - ‘J’. So the Joker had broken into my phone at some point and put his details in. I wasn’t completely shocked – seemed like something he might do. Nothing he did surprised me much anymore. But what did he mean ‘be careful’? What would I do? I was hospital bed-ridden till at least tomorrow morning. Everything he did made me confused – everything he did led to more questions in my head and more pain in my skull.  
Then I heard the footsteps to match the shadows I had seen. Was the Joker visiting this evening as well? It was only one pair of footsteps this time – would he come here alone without Frost. I doubted it really. I slowly and quietly placed my phone back on the table and turned back to watching the light movement.  
Then I heard a noise. It was muffled more than normal, but in the silence of the ward it still rang out clear and distinct to my ears. The sound of a gun loading. Had the Joker changed his mind in saving me? Had he come to fix that mistake?  
Fear coursed through my body and I quickly, but quietly moved myself of out of my bed so I didn’t make a sound, fighting through the sudden head rush as I got to my feet. Now I had the bed between me and the curtained doorway – not that it would anything to stop a bullet. Should I just take it? Let the Joker do it? There wasn’t really much other choice and I’d rather die with some dignity in front of him. I didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of me cowering before him.  
I couldn’t do much more than just wait as the footsteps moved around the curtain. The rings were rattled along the metal railing as they were pulled back slowly and a dark figure appeared in the gap formed. He paused in and I couldn’t see him well, though even in the darkness I could see the body shape was not that of the Joker and his skin wasn’t the pale white I was so used to.  
From his outline I could see his arms were thick and his shoulders were broad. As he stepped deeper into the room the dim light from my lamp illuminated him a bit better. He had slicked back dark hair, a dark shirt and dark trousers – he looked like a walking shadow. His face was thrown in shadow so all I could see was his lower face which had a deep frown that turned into a menacing grin when he saw me awake and stood on the opposite side of the room.  
“Good evening deary.” He sneered at me, raising his gun. I was silent, my limbs shaking under me. I backed up instinctively jerking slightly when my drip restrained me till I yanked my arm and the needle ripped out and swung back towards the IV stand. I didn’t feel the pain. The man prowled forward for every step I took back. “Don’t run mouse.” He crooned and it made me shudder.  
I stopped with a jolt when my back collided with the arm chair and I tripped, falling into the window ledge and my side hit the chest of drawers. I caught myself on it with my hands and steadied myself.  
“You look scared...,” he purred, but not the way the Joker did - the way I wanted at this moment. “Don’t worry it’s nothing you did. It’s just revenge.” He stated simply as if that explained everything.  
“W-w-what?” I whispered, my voice shaking and croaky.  
“Joker’s gotta pay for what he did – you’re the payment.” He explained.  
“W-why me?”  
“The Joker has few things he cares about – gotta make the most of the things he does.”  
“You’re wrong.”  
“Ah sweetie, you’re blinded - like him – he doesn’t know it either. But he will – when he sees his little whore dead on the floor. He’ll be heartbroken.” He growled aiming his gun at me and I pressed myself tightly up against the window, the blinds crumpling under the pressure of my body. I had to think of something to do – some way out – but my mind was drawing a blank from the panic running through me and my recent head trauma. He simply laughed at the look on my face.  
He fired the gun. Somehow, possible out of pure instinct, I dropped to the floor at the same moment. He had aimed for my chest so had hit the window which shattered, causing glassed to rain over me as I cowered between the chair and the chest of drawers. The glass shards cut and stung my skin and I couldn’t help myself from whimpering as shock took over my systems.  
The shadow man swore at my futile attempt to avoid him and furious reloaded and re-aimed. I clenched my eyes together and hid my face, not wanting to see my own death coming at me.  
Another two shots rang out. My body was thrown back from my twisted position so my I collided with a straight back into the wall behind me. I gasped loudly; keeping my eyes tightly closed and I felt my body engulfed in agony. Why couldn’t he have just shot me in the head so I would die straight away without all of this? Through my own chaos racking my body I thought I heard another cry but I couldn’t be sure. Then I heard a thud and I couldn’t hold back the scream that ripped through my body from the pain and shock.  
Through my slit between my eyelids I saw someone appear in front of me but my vision was blurry with tears and the dizziness was returning to my head. Cold pressure was put on my arms and I vaguely recognised it as the grasp of hands. My head rolled back as it became too heavy for me to support. The cold touch I had felt then moved to my cheeks and pulled my head back upright again, shaking me slightly. I couldn’t see clearly and I could feel myself going crossed eyed with exhaustion. As I blinked though, I tried to focus on the person before me and visions blurred before my eyes. All I could make out was white skin and bright red lips inches from my face.  
I tried to blink again but this time I couldn’t re-open my eyes.   
Then there was no pain.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi Everyone - sorry this has taken longer than usual I’ve been trying to write it for a while and it started to become too long so I’ve split it into two chapters instead (and they are still really long!)
> 
> I apologise if this whole fanfic isn’t making much sense - I’m struggling to see the bigger picture and am sort of making this up as I go along! In future fanfics I will attempt to stay a bit more focused and have a better plan!
> 
> (Also sorry I keep apologising in every chapter - I feel the need to justify any 'not great' bits!)
> 
> Anyway - hope you enjoy!

I woke up when I attempted to turn over onto my left and instead gasped in agony at the pain in my right shoulder. After taking a deep breath I slowly lowered myself so I was led back down, clenching my jaw against the burning in my shoulder.  
I blew my breath between my clenched teeth, feeling how the pain seemed to mainly concentrate on a piece of tight skin on my shoulder. I took short rapid breaths and it seemed to dull the sting slightly. I tried to open my eyes, but dried tears kept my lids sealed and I rubbed at them - choosing to only use my left hand when I found I could barely lift my right arm without more shooting pain. Then I finally opened my eyes and the world swam before me briefly before focusing on the morning light that filled the room.  
I didn’t bother to take in my surroundings - my eyes immediately shot to my shoulder. I was in a tank top so I could see clearly that it was completely wrapped in bandages and a thick pad was on the front portion. There was a dark patch under the pad where my blood had pooled and I let out a wobbly breath as I took in the situation. How bad was it? Oh my God! What if I couldn’t use my arm?! Am I going to be basically one-handed for the rest of my life? I was panicking but I couldn’t test out my arm because it hurt too much to even attempt to lift it. However, I could still clench my hand into a fist – though the tension down my arm made me hiss in pain.  
I looked around in the hopes of finding a doctor or nurse to talk to and then I noticed - I wasn’t in the same room as before. Someone had moved me; my bed was now in a private room all to myself. On my left was a door with a window panel through which I could see nothing but a rectangle of orange-walled corridor. Next to the door was a bunch of hospital machinery and spare heart monitors -ready to be hooked up to the next patient – and, directly in front of me, the wall was lined with laminated wooden storage cupboards, probably housing a variety of equipment and drugs, and shelves that held folders and more vases containing plastic flowers like my last room.  
My eyes continued to travel around the room until they landed on a chair that sat in the right hand corner of the room next to a wide window. I jumped when I noticed him – causing me to gasp at the stab of pain in my shoulder. The Joker. He was propped up in the meagrely padded wooden hospital chair wearing smart black trousers and a deep red shirt that hung open to expose his chest. His eyes were closed, his head hung back and partially rested on his vibrant purple coat that was draped over the back of the chair. He was asleep. Thank god. I clutched my chest with my left hand in relief. My heart was still beating 10 to the dozen and this was clear thanks to my heart monitor that was beeping out of control. I took a few deep breaths to calm myself, but I was still very well aware of the Joker’s presence only a few feet away.  
The beating eventually returned close to a regular rhythm but the sight of him had thrown my mind back into the memories of last night. At the time I hadn’t really been aware he was in the room – not until just before I had passed out when I remember seeing flashes of familiar shades of red and green that could only be him. Even then I was certain he had messed with my mind so I didn’t completely trust what I saw. I really needed to stop having these adventurous evenings – it was exhausting me both mentally and physically and I was now incredibly bruised as well.   
But the Joker had saved me. That I couldn’t deny. But why had he saved me? What did he have to gain – why would he bother? Why had the man in black said my death would be revenge? What would killing me have accomplished?  
As much as I wanted to leave this room as soon as possible now I knew who I was sharing it with, I also knew I needed to talk to the Joker and get some answers. For the past few weeks I had so many questions and no way of getting answers unless I confronted the Joker head on – no funny business - though that was unlikely when dealing with the clown, but I had to try.   
I wasn’t going to be the fool to wake him up though.  
At the same time I wasn’t going to sit here forever waiting – I needed to get out of this bed - I needed water for my throat and a bathroom – who knows how long I’d been out. The act of getting out of bed was going to kill me though - but there was no other option. I pushed myself up using only my left arm, grimacing against the burning in my shoulder no matter how much I tried to keep my right side still.  
I swung my legs out over the bed, surprised to find myself in a pair of grey jogging bottoms. I detached myself from wires and pulled my IV drip out carefully - cringing at the movement in my arm and the tweak as the needle left my skin. I let it fall so that it swung down beside the bed. I cradled my right arm against my body and stood up, feeling a bit shaky on my legs. My heart monitor was going crazy with the lack of pulse so I quickly pushed a load of buttons until it shut up – glancing quickly behind me to check I hadn’t woken the Joker up.  
Happy I hadn’t, I waited till I felt steady enough on my legs before I head towards the door – each step was stiff from my lack of movement for who knows how long. I grabbed the door handle with my right hand, the arm still cradled to my chest with my left. I twisted it – trying to only move my wrist - and pulled the door toward me, nearly unbalancing myself in the process. I slipped through the door silently and looked up and down the corridor  
“[Y/N]?!” I turned toward the voice to see Frost straighten up from leaning against the wall to the left of my door.  
“Hi Frost.” I greeted weakly.  
“It’s good to see you awake! But should you be out of bed? Does the Joker know?” he questioned quickly.  
“He’s asleep in the chair.” I answered. “Why is he here?”  
“He hasn’t left your side the whole time you’ve been out.” He stated. I stood in silence processing this. Why?! It so frustrating that I didn’t understand his actions in the slightest. Most people you could predict, but the Joker was definitely not one of them.  
“Frost what on Earth has been happening?” I asked hoping I would at least get a straight answer from him.   
Frost didn’t answer straight away and seemed to be contemplating what to tell me. “Please Frost,” I whined, “I just want some answers!”  
He sighed, “Well, after you passed out at the club the other night, boss put me onto to working out what had happened. We found a man who had been tailing you and CCTV showed him buying you a drink before the meeting.” He paused as he watched me take in the information. I nodded to show I understood. “We believe it was drugged and so caused you to pass out. After you were placed in hospital we tracked him and found he was planning another attack - presumably because his last hadn’t worked.  
Boss left immediately after that without me. When I finally caught up and got to your room you were passed out and collapsed in a corner, with boss bent over you with shirt pressed to your bullet wound.” He explained gesturing to my bandaged shoulder as I tried to hide my surprise at this information.  
“How long have I been out?” I questioned quietly.  
“4 days.” He said gently.  
“And he never left?”  
“Never. When I arrived we moved you back onto your bed. When the doctors wanted to move you to a new room he nearly killed them all. Then, later - when they wanted to remove the bullet and stitch you up in the operating theatre - they asked him to leave the room and he ended up shooting a few until they decided it was wisest to just let him sit in the corner.” Frost chuckled quietly to himself whilst I just stared at the hideous orange wall in front of me in shock.  
Frost noticed my silence and lack of response and his smirk dropped to a look of stern concern, “[Y/N] I strongly suggest you get back into bed and rest – especially before the Joker finds you have gone.”  
“Sorry Frost,” I apologised quickly pulling myself out of my stupor, “I came looking for a restroom and a drink.” I explained knowing he was looking out for me - and himself - against the Joker’s temper.  
Frost grabbed a passing nurse and explained the situation. She looked a bit shocked at the circumstances – knowing fully well who Frost was and making the connection with me - but she gathered herself quickly when she saw my condition and led me down the hall to the nearest toilets. She dropped me off at the door, promising to get me some water before she left, carrying on down the corridor.  
I got a little lost on the way back down the maze of corridors but I soon figured out the general direction when I heard the unmistakable sound of a gunshot and the subsequent screaming that echoed through the hallways. The Joker was awake. I felt sorry for Frost – he had tried to stop me and really didn’t deserve the anger that was now probably raining down on him. I would have run back to help him if every movement didn’t send searing pain up my arm.  
As I turned the last corner I saw the Joker threatening Frost and some unlucky doctor who must have been passing by at the wrong time. “Hey! Leave them alone!” I called out bravely and walked as quickly as possible up to them.  
Joker spun around aiming his gun at me. I could see his pale muscles flex with his movements and I gulped not realising I had stopped breathing. I thought I saw his eyes lightened slightly when he saw me, but it could have been a trick of the light because his then eyes flickered down to my arm cradled against my stomach and his gaze darkened. “Doll.” He growled before grabbing my good arm and hauling me back into my hospital room and throwing me roughly in the direction of the bed before crossing the room so he stood at the foot of the bedstead. I hissed in pain as I landed on my bad arm on the mattress and I felt tears swell in my eyes.  
I blinked them away as the joker paced back and forth at the foot of the bed, his shirt flapping against his sides when he spun. I pulled myself up with my good arm, keeping my bad arm tucked up close to me, so I sat cross legged in the middle of the sheets and watched his movement. I let my bad arm rest limply in my lap and I could feel the hole in my shoulder throbbed like a second heart beat.   
I could hear him growling lowly to himself as he paced, his eyes hidden under his dark brows. He wasn’t paying me any attention – it was almost as if I wasn’t in the room.  
Suddenly he raked his hands through his hair and seized handfuls of the vibrant green strands, “SHUT UP!” he screamed at himself and I visibly flinched at the sudden outburst. He must have noticed my movement because he abruptly dropped his hands and spun to face me. His hair was now dishevelled, some strands fell over his face and his eyes were bright with craziness.  
I could feel the fear coursing through me at the sudden show of his insanity and I couldn’t stand the intense gaze on my face any longer so I dropped my head to look at my hands on my lap. Wrong. He lunged at me from across the room to grab my chin, yanking me forward and pulling my head up violently. “Look at me doll.” His breath skimmed over my nose and I brought my gaze to meet his icy eyes, knowing better than to disobey him – especially when he was this close to me. “Better.” He purred releasing my chin and stroking my cheek with the back of his fingers and moving his hand towards my hair. This is ridiculous – I didn’t t know where I stood with this man! I pulled back abruptly leaving his hand outstretched in mid-air.   
“No. Stop with bloody mood swings!” I snapped. He snarled again, curling his upper lip up to reveal his silver caps.  
“You are pushing you’re luck today aren’t you doll?” he rumbled lowly retracting his arm slowly and then slinked around my bed in a predatory fashion. He then jumped onto the bed lithely in front of me, playfully copying my position and sitting cross legged in front of me. I used my good arm to shift myself backwards away from his close proximity so that I was sat on pillow of the bed, my back pressed tightly against the plastic headboard. “Aww, don’t run away baby.” He pouted mockingly. I glared at him and he responded with an sickly sweet grin, “I’ll be good – cross my heart.” He promised making a cross like gesture on his chest. I continued to eye him cautiously. “Don’t believe me doll? I’m hurt!” he teased. I remained silent and guarded – wary for his next change of mood where I could suddenly find myself thrown across the room.  
He let out an exasperated sigh at my poor cooperation with his teasing. “Ok. How about we play a little game?” he questioned with a wide Cheshire-cat-like grin. I raised a silent eyebrow at him in question. He was up to something.  
“You have questions.” He presumed. I nodded. “And so do I” My eyes narrowed at this – here we go. “The rules are simple! You ask a question, I’ll answer it, if - and only if - you answer one of mine.” He explained. “So,” He said, folding his hands on his lap and his face becoming serious as though I was one of his many business partners, “Wanna play kitten?”  
I tried to think this through - didn’t they say not to make a deal with the devil? But I wanted answers and this was as good a way as any to get them. Sure he got to ask me one too but I didn’t really have that much to hide – he could probably find out whatever he wanted to anyway and, heck, he probably already had. I had nothing to lose.  
I nodded briefly. “Fine.” His lips slid up into a sly grin and I suddenly felt like I made a terrible mistake. Gone was his mocking and jokes. The devil had arrived.


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's not perfect - and never will be!  
> But I wanted to get it out and I need to sleep!  
> Enjoy - comment welcome and if anyone wants to suggest something for me to write I'll happily do that too!

“I’ll be nice – like I promised. You can go first.” The Joker said innocently though there was some plan sparking behind his bright eyes.  
What had I got myself into? I sighed out loud. Better make the most of it really. I dug around my head through the many questions I had complied over the weeks of dealing with the clown in front of me. Who knew how long this opportunity would last – I need answers but I needed to choose carefully.  
I couldn’t think clearly looking at him- his very presence fogged my mind but looking at him completely obscured any clear train of thought I might have. I crinkled my brow in concentration and peered around the room in thought.  
“Is that how you think doll or are you having an aneurism?” he asked me and I shot him a glare but his face showed no humour. His patience was clearly fading fast with my lack of response so I grabbed at the first question I could think of.  
“Why did that man want to kill me?”  
“Revenge.” He stated plainly. I raised an eyebrow at him, “He seemed to believe that I was the one that killed his two colleagues the other day doll.” He expanded, grinning widely, “’fraid I didn’t get the chance to correct him.” He mused.   
“Why were you in that alley without your gun anyway?” I asked, still rather confused about that whole night.  
“Ah ah ah,” he tutted wagging his finger at me, “one question at a time – it’s my turn now.” He shuffled towards me on the bed, frowned and tapped his chin miming deep thinking. “hmmm…,” His face lit up and he beamed at me deviously, “Did you like killing those men?”   
I went to open my mouth when he interrupted me, “Be honest now doll or else I won’t be.” He warned. Damn I wished he couldn’t read me so clearly. I mentally kicked myself; this is why you don’t make deals with the Joker.   
What was the answer? I hadn’t enjoyed it in the conventional way someone might enjoy a hobby or a piece of cake but I couldn’t deny there had been some part of me that hadn’t been completely repelled by what I had done. What should, what could I say? I didn’t even know the answer myself.  
“Honestly?” I sighed after a moment of silence, he didn’t move or say anything, just watched me,“I have no idea.” I said, shaking my head and looking down at my lap.   
He gave a short bark of laughter, “HA – I like your honestly doll!” he exclaimed with a chortling devilishly and shuffling closer still to me. I smirked slightly at his obvious pleasure at my answer than quickly realised what I was doing and cleared my face of emotion. I was sure he had noticed though.  
I wondered if I needed to wait for permission to ask my question so I waited in silence until he gestured for me to continue.  
“Why were you in the alley without your gun on the night I killed those men?” I asked, remembering my previous question. “Be honest, remember.” I added quickly and he shot me a dark look but I felt it didn’t really carry any threat.  
“Drink is good for quieting the voices,” he explained, suddenly grinning brilliantly and twirling his wrists and fingers in a ‘crazy’ gesture around his head -insanity shining bright in his eyes. I raised an eyebrow at his actions and he grinned even wider causing his pale cheeks to crinkle and I noticed the shadows of dimples showing. The oddly boyish feature seemed odd on the psycho’s face.  
“You haven’t actually answered the question.” I pointed out when he didn’t say anything more.  
His smile dropped along with his arms and he hung his head back letting it roll from one side to the other in a dramatic show of boredom. “What can I say doll? I drank too much, went out some air and just happen to forget my gun.” He drawled. I eyed him suspiciously – I had a feeling that wasn’t the entire story but I didn’t push it – I knew his temper lurked beneath the surface of his calm façade.  
“Fine.” I mumbled just for something to say in response  
His head snapped back upright again and I thought I caught a look of confusion in his eyes, as if he was surprised that I hadn’t pushed him further on it. But I didn’t think more about it because a sly smile slipped back onto his face, “My turn again doll.” He purred. I didn’t say anything but waited patiently for my fate.  
“Do you like it when we kiss?”  
I was stunned. I hadn’t expected that, but it was exactly the mind twisting question I’d expect from him. I chewed my bottom lip as if I was thinking, trying to buy myself time to put my mind back together. “Be truthful now baby.” He crooned grinning like the devil himself. “I’ll know if you’re lying.”  
I swallowed thickly what do I say? I had to tell the truth – I knew how well he could read me and he’d know for certain if I lied. Plus I was pretty sure he already knew the answer but was toying with me to get me to say it. So what was the truth?  
“Well kitten?” he pressed. I nodded slightly. “Use your words otherwise it’s not an answer and I get another question.” He warned.  
I was suddenly very aware of how close he had gradually moved toward me. Our knees were basically touching now as we both sat cross-legged on the single bed - like two children at a sleepover. I bit my lip again and looked around the room as I grappled with my mind. I really didn’t want to say it aloud. Saying it out loud was like admitting it was true, that I had somehow fallen for this crazy psychopathic clown. Because that was the question really, it wasn’t just about liking a kiss, it was about liking him. Which was wrong. Was it?  
Yes. It was.  
I rolled my bottom lip between my teeth as I thought, returning my eyes to my hands crossed in my lap, not wanting to look at him. Then I heard a low growl from in front of me and I flash of white as he moved, then my hair was roughly grabbed and lips smashed into mine. He grinned when I melted against him. He pulled away slightly so his lips hovered above mine and I missed the contact instantly and I had to fight the urge to lean forward and close the distant between us.  
He clearly knew this and teased me, “Do. You. Like. It?” With each word he lightly brushed his lips against mine – teasing me and my emotions till I felt I was knotted and tied up with all conflicting strings of thoughts. There was one clear word that echoed through my head, louder than any other, “Yes” I finely breathed letting myself go to feel what I wanted for once. I saw lust in his eyes as he leaned in further but before I could feel him again he abruptly pulled back his face now displaying a mad red lined smirk and he began rocking back and forth laughing crazily.  
I felt all the passion drain out of me and my heart drop. I could feel my cheeks burn with shame at my folly. What had I done?! I just basically confessed my feelings to this maniac who had absolutely no feelings what so ever! How could I have been so naïve?! The passion and lust I felt from the kiss was replaced with fury at the crazy clown before me – he was such as user, a teaser – he thought of me as a toy and nothing more. Well then. It was time for me to leave.  
I unfolded myself quickly from the bed, ignoring the pain that shot through my shoulder as I moved too harshly. The Joker continued to sway with mirth as I strode the door and swung it open, flinching at the jolt it sent through my arm, though I was beyond caring thanks to the anger that fuelled me.  
I swung the door open and stormed out. “[Y/N]?” questioned Frost in surprise seeing me storm into the corridor and slamming the door closed behind me. I glared at him, though I knew none this was his fault, my rage was fuelling my actions as he was guilty by association with the murderer in my hospital room. I stalked past him down the hall having no idea where I was going, but knowing I wanted to get far away from the two of them.  
Eventually, as I marched down the halls - taking random lefts and rights when I felt like it – my anger wore off enough that the pain from my shoulder began to pound its way back into the forefront of my mind. It must have been hours since my last pain medication and it was really taking its toll on me - especially with me having been an idiot and thrown it around in my anger.  
I stopped in the middle of a short corridor and moved to lean against the wall on my left. I gripped my arm and clenched my jaw as a wave of agony ran through me. I felt tears form in my eyes and I wasn’t sure if it was only from the pain. I turned around so I faced the wall and leant my hot forehead against the colder, hideous shade of orange and let myself silently sob to myself.  
Then I heard quick footsteps to my left. “Dollface.” He growled from the end of the corridor and this time I could hear the threat in his words. But I didn’t turn.  
He moved silently down the corridor so I didn’t know he was behind me till he grabbed my left arm and swung me around. He slammed me back into the wall and I gasped at the collision force against the back of my head and my wounded shoulder. “You can’t walk away from me!” he snarled, his upper lip curling to reveal his metal caps in the meagre hallway lights. He placed his hands on the wall either side of my face, blocking me from escaping and his body was slightly pressed up against mine.  
My fury that had ebbed away flared anew to match his. “Why not?” I demanded. “Why can’t I just leave whenever I want, like a normal person?!”  
His breathing was heavy in front of me like it was taking all his will power not to snap my neck.  
“Because you’re mine.” He growled.  
“I am not yours!” I shouted. “I am not an object! Not a toy to be played with and thrown about!” He looked taken aback by the fact that I was fighting back against him, so I took the opportunity to dig at him a bit more. “If I was anyone’s I would be the Penguin’s anyway – at least I’m contracted to be ‘his’! I pointed out.  
I watched a mix of emotion cross behind his eyes before he closed them and I watched the muscle in his jaw jump as he clenched his teeth against his anger and his hands balled into fists on either side of my face. I was not in a good position right now - but I had only myself to blame this time. Why did I have to piss him off so much?!  
He punched the wall to my right and I jumped, holding back a squeal of fear. His nostrils flared as he pushed himself back with his knuckles and he stood tall before me. I noticed the dent left in the wall where he had hit and I could feel myself shrink back as I saw every muscle flex under his anger. I couldn’t feel the throbbing in my shoulder anymore – the fear for my life was eclipsing any pain in my body.  
Then he swiftly spun on his heel and pulled out his gun, only opening his eyes once he had fired a number of rounds down the hallway. I watched as two nurses dropped to the floor dead. I hadn’t heard them coming in my state, but clearly he had. I gulped as silently as possible when I realised I had stopped breathing.  
He turned back to me and I cringed slightly waiting for the weapon to be turned on me. But he seemed to look through me and then let his head fall back as he stretched his arms out to either side. The motion caused his arms to become even more defined under his dark shirt as they tensed and he rolled his neck from side to side like earlier. I thought I could see a grin on his face but I couldn’t really tell. I heard his neck crack and he let his arms fall so his gun hung lazily by his side, bringing his head back up to look straight at me. I cowered as I waited for his wrath but I noticed his jaw was relaxed and, though his face was still serious, he showed no trace of the anger that had consumed him a moment ago. He appeared to have taken his anger out on the two unfortunate nurses.  
“Well doll,” he growled lowly, running his hand through his hair to move the stray strands back into place, “I believe it’s my turn?” I blinked at him stupidly. “We’re still playing our little game kitten.” He told me. I guess I had no choice in this.  
To save my own skin I went along with it. “A-Ac-Actually, I believe it’s my turn.” I mumbled - my voice still shaky from the events of a few moments ago.   
“No, no, kitten,” he scolded playfully, “You had your turn – I believe you asked why you couldn’t just leave like a normal person? And I answered. So now it’s my turn.” He stated bluntly and his grin pulled at his painted mouth. I could feel lump forming in my throat. I wasn’t sure I agreed with this but I wasn’t going to argue with him at the moment when I knew temper wasn’t far away. I was just going to have to go along with it if I was going to get out of here alive – even if I wouldn’t be completely sane.  
I sighed in surrender, “Hit me.” I muttered and I was suddenly propelled sideways - only just managing to catch myself on a nearby fire extinguisher that hung from the wall. I brought a hand to my cheek where he had slapped me and felt the heat warm my palm. I pushed myself back upright and clenched my jaw against the sting in my cheek and I felt my shoulder throb from the sudden jolting movement.  
“What. The. Hell?!” I spat through gritted teeth shooting daggers at the Joker who remained happily stood before me - the only difference in his appearance being a slight change in how his shirt hung on his frame.  
“You told me to.” He said harmlessly lifting his shoulders and looking confused at what he done wrong - but I could see a smirk playing on his lips. I glowered at him but it see to have absolutely no effect on him. I guess it was my own fault really- I did say it. I admitted silently to myself. What had he done to my head that made me think that him slapping me was my fault?!  
“Just ask the damn question.” I snapped at him. He pouted at me mockingly before his face was turned serious.  
“Why did you blow up my club?”  
I was a bit taken aback by the question. I had no idea that he was even thinking of that night and I was completely unprepared to answer the question. “Umm… I-I“   
“Honesty now.” Joker reminded me. I narrowed my eyes at him in annoyance. I could actually try to lie to him this time, but I was nearly certain that I he would see through it. Should I just tell him? I couldn’t think why not anymore – apart from a wish to stay alive. But if I lied he would find a way to make me tell him – probably through some sort of torture which I wanted to avoid if at all possible. Either way I was going to have to tell him. I took a deep breath and let it out shakily.   
“The night you first entered the club you bumped into me remember?”  
He looked unimpressed, “I know what happened doll. But I want to know why.” He drawled, clearly bored.  
“You didn’t accidentally bump into me. I sought you out.” I declared. His face remained passive but I thought I saw something flash in his eyes. “Initially - when I first came to you - Frost shoved me out of the way and you just kept walking. Then you stopped and asked me to get the boss of the club. I didn’t.”  
He narrowed his eyes at me, “Then who did you bring me doll?” he growled, and I could already notice his temper rising again with the realisation that I had disobeyed him.  
“I brought you a jackass that had always caused trouble. He was always a drunk, always groped the girls – including me – was always disrespectful, and a general jerk. I figure the world wouldn’t miss him.” The Joker raised his invisible eyebrows at me in surprise at my words – clearly taken aback by this side of me. “I paid him to pretend he was the boss – told him it was a kinky role play I enjoyed.” I explained rolling my eyes at the stupidity of it. “I knew who you were - what you were - what you would do. And you came through. Shot him dead within minutes. Seconds later you claimed the club. There wasn’t much I could do.”  
“Sounds like I did you a favour.” Muttered the Joker – not happy to do it for free obviously. He snapped his eyes back to mine. “So why not get the real boss doll hm?” He asked nicely with a creepy, unfriendly smile splitting his face, “Tryin’ protect a friend of yours? A lover?!” he suddenly demanded, his face flashing to a look of pure rage as his temper flared and he bared his sliver teeth at me.  
I wasn’t backing down now though – a strange confidence had taken over me. “I couldn’t bring you my boss because I don’t have one!” I retorted. “Your narrow insane mind couldn’t even consider the idea that I could be more than just a singer! Never even thought that I myself could be the one in charge!” I snapped.  
One of his hands shot out and grabbed my chin pulling me up to his face and forcing me to stand on my tiptoes as he sneerd at my attitude. “Then tell me dollface,” he drawled, “why would you prime your own club to blow?”   
I stared defiantly into his icy eyes, trying to hold onto my anger to power me and not give into the emotion that hovered beneath my façade. But I could already feel the tears beginning to prickle in my eyes. “That’s why I blew it up!” I exclaimed. “That place had been in my family for too many generations to count and you just strode in, shot one idiot, and then took it!” I shrieked in hysteria, my emotions getting the better of me so I could no longer stop the tears from cascading down my cheeks.  
“There was nothing I could do!” I cried closing my eyes against the wall of sorrow that slammed into me. “I knew no one would stand up to you! No one I could rely on with enough resources to get rid of you! It would have been a death wish anyway!” I sobbed, opening my eyes to look at him as forced the words out, even though his steel grip on my chin was crushing my mouth and making it hard to talk.   
“But as much as I loved that place I couldn’t - wouldn’t - see it run and ruined by the likes of you!” I paused, trying to breathe through my sobs and hiccups. “Better it never existed.” I sniffed, “So now it doesn’t.” I mumbled dropping my gaze so I now stared at the words JOKER written over his abs and the toothy grin.  
We stood there in silence for a few moments -him still holding my chin and me weeping quietly to myself, not looking at him. I was certain – now he knew – he would end it finally. Put the bullet in my head – or would he torture me first? I didn’t really care anymore and I contemplated his options for my death as though I was deciding what to cook for dinner.  
When his fingers loosened their hold I assumed he was reaching for his gun to end me and I let myself collapse against the wall and onto the floor. I stared at the ground in front of me, but, where I expected to see him stood, all I saw was the greying corridor floor.  
He was gone. And I just sat there staring into nothing, sobbing for what I had lost.


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys - sorry its taken so long to post I've had a lot of uni deadlines lately. Hopefully there should be a few parts in quick succession now though because I've done my usual and written too much for one part so I've split it into at least 2 parts instead!  
> Anyway hope you enjoy! As always I love the feedback so let me know what you think!

I didn’t really acknowledge the arms that lifted me to my feet or the hand that led me back down the many corridors to my room. I kept my head down and my eyes clenched closed most of the time against the water that welled in the corners of my vision. When I finally opened them I was back in my bed and I gazing blurry eyed at the strip light above me feeling dazed and stupid.  
I was at a loss with myself. I just lay there, my head fuzzy and unable to remain on a single train of thought for more than a few seconds before my concentration faltered and faded and I returned to staring blankly at the ceiling tiles.  
My eyes soon became raw and dry but I found it to require too much energy to blink so I gave up and closed my eyes again, turning onto my side so that I didn’t lie on my injured shoulder. I buried my heavy head into the crackly hospital pillow and let the remaining salty tears run freely down my face until I found sanctum in sleep whilst the water pooled under my cheek.  
My stay in the hospital lasted a while – I had no idea how long and soon the days began to merge into one another. My attitude didn’t pick up much from that night - though I ran out of tears quite quickly.   
I rarely left the bed and I couldn’t find the energy to do much else, so I simply remained mindlessly staring through heavy lids at the closed blinds or dirty ceiling. It was boring – mind numbingly boring – but nothing else appeal to me anymore.  
I couldn’t understand my low mood. My internal voice screamed at my body of me to get up - jump - smile - laugh. But I didn’t. I couldn’t. I felt like my limbs were heavy or my muscles had atrophied overnight. So instead I was left with my thoughts. Most of the time I couldn’t face them either and contented myself with attempting to be as blank as possible – hoping one day I would just become part of my hospital bed and cease to exist. When I did decide to confront my own mind I found it just brought me further down into the deep pit I seemed to have formed.  
I was ashamed - that I was the one thing I was sure of in the swirl of emotions that clouded my brain. I was ashamed of playing to the Joker’s manipulative game – of confessing my feelings so damn easily to him. Feelings that shouldn’t even exist. Could no longer exist and would no longer exist. I told myself sternly.  
I felt ashamed of snapping under his and my own temper and lashing out with my explanation of the night at the club. But - most of all - I was ashamed of how I was now. There was no explanation why I should feel like this. It felt like I was grieving or going through a bad break up. But I wasn’t. Initially I had pegged it as shock, but now I didn’t know.  
I was broken but I didn’t know why. So how was I going to fix myself?  
What played on my mind was how he had just left. I didn’t think it was normal - as much as I knew about him – for him to just leave like that without having the last word. Now I just felt like I had a sea of unknowns before me and I was drowning in all the uncertainty and questions pooled in my mind. Why had he asked me about the kiss? Why were his mood swings so violent? Why had he left so abruptly when a few moments before he was willing to murder me? Would he seek me out again?  
After I had relived that night at least 5 more times in my mind I would finally shut my mind down and ban myself from thinking of anything other than what shade the white was on the wall in front of me.  
My cycle of lying, thinking and banning thinking was finally broken after about 3 days. It was the first interesting thing to registered with me during my stay at the hospital - a visitor. I hadn’t had any since the night with him and it had that felt like weeks ago – though it hadn’t have been more than a few days.  
I was curled in a ball running one of my hands absentmindedly over the edge of the laminated wooden night stand that sat by my bed. It must have been relatively late in the morning but the room remained in shadow except for a thin line of light out of the corner blinds that covered the window. I never opened the curtains so the room remained dark until the morning nurse made the rounds to checked on me and bring my food. I think her name was Georgia - but I hadn’t really being paying attention at the time and our conversations were minimal. She always looked at my still form in the bed with disapproval and sighed at me when I picked at the processed hospital food provided. She no longer bothered to attempt conversation with me after days of my monosyllabic answers.  
Today she entered the room and greeted me as usual. My only reply was a glance at her and a twitch at the corner of my lips – my current version of a smile. She placed the usual plastic tray of food on the night stand in front of my hand I could see the dark shadowy outline of a bowl and some plastic containers. She then moved across the room to the window and briskly wound the blinds open. “You’ll need some light today – you have a visitor.” She informed me and I almost didn’t hear her – so used to drowning out her monotonous small talk over the days. “You’ll need to at least wash your face today.” She told me like a stern mother as she poured me out a glass of water and held it out to me, forcing me to sit by upright to take it from her. Once I was sat up she quickly placed the tray of food on my lap before I could change my mind and lie back down.  
“There is a hair brush, flannel and clean towels in the washroom waiting for you.” She prompted me as she straightened out my sheets.  
“Why?” I asked as I shifted under the tray to get comfortable on the lumpy mattress. My voice came out hoarse and rough from lack of use apart from the occasional muttering to myself.  
“You have a visitor,” she told me again, “– it might be a good idea to be presentable.” She hinted sarcastically as she moved round my bed – clearly frustrated with my lack of enthusiasm in life. I missed her snarky attitude however, too surprised at the idea that I might have a visitor. I ignored the plate of food before me - like usual - and sipped vaguely at the cup of water in thought at the mystery that was my unknown caller.  
Running out of things to tidy in my pristine room the nurse headed out my door, pausing in the doorway to pop her head back into the room, “He is a bit impatient to come in so I recommend you get ready quickly.” She advised giving me a meaningful look before firmly closing the door behind her.  
I stared look down at my cup and into the watery surface. Who the hell would visit me? I didn’t have friends anymore – my life had been so up in the air recently I hadn’t kept in touch with anyone - and I had found comfort in my solitude. Did this mean the Joker had returned? Or was it Frost coming to pass on a message instead? I hadn’t heard from either of them since that day – but did that mean that I would?   
But the nurse was right – I wanted to look presentable – I didn’t want him to see me like this. He might think it was because of him – and maybe it was. No. I shook my head at myself. It isn’t and even if it is, it won’t be anymore! I told myself firmly. I need to pick myself up and show him I am not a pathetic doll - I am not the toy he thinks I am!  
A rare flare of energy coursed through me and I hauled myself determinedly out of the bed, striding to the ensuite that I had found through a door next to my bed. I made my way to the sink and stared open mouth at the disgrace that was my appearance. My face was becoming slightly gaunt where I hadn’t eaten much and dark shadows encircled my eyes. I tilted my head to examine myself from all angles and paused when I noticed faint bruises around my chin and down my neck. I ran my fingers over them slightly and pushed into them to see if I felt pain. Some of them stung slight, but the memories hurt more.  
I snapped my head back upright to jolt myself out of my mind and made myself busy trying to get ready. I scrubbed at my face with a flannel that the nurse had left resting over the basin and splashed cold water over my face, gasping at the temperature - but feeling much more refreshed from having done so. Another glance at my reflection showed a major improvement just from that – the cold having added a health red flush to my pale face. I found a toothbrush sat on the side of the sink and a small tube of toothpaste ready for me. I took my time brushing, finding it almost therapeutic – like I was scrubbing away the wooliness that had clouded my brain. I then noticed a cheap plastic hair brush sitting on a nearby cabinet and set about tearing it through the tangles that had accumulated over the past few days.  
When I felt I could pass as presentable – for someone in a hospital with a gaping wound in their shoulder – I wandered back out into my room, determined I could face this encounter with the Joker or Frost with some form of dignity.  
My assumption of my visitor’s identification was soon proven wrong however when I entered the room to see a large rotund figure dressed in a black suit jacket and trousers standing before my window. He looked out into the greying concrete world below - a tall top hat perched perfectly on the top of his balding scalp.   
Penguin.  
“Up and about I see my dear.” He greeted, obviously noticing my movement in the doorway, turning his head slightly in my direction but not moving from the window.  
“Yes sir.” I responded mechanically as I remained stood on the boundary to the room, caution evident in my voice.  
He looked me up and down, his face contorting into a look of disapproval at my appearance. “Not exactly being taken care of yourself have you, my pet?” he reproached. “You cost me a lot of money being in here my dear, and you don’t even look after yourself.” I dropped my gaze at the reprimand. I knew how much he valued every bit of his money and chances were he had lost some patronage to his club when I hadn’t been working.  
He turned back to the window and I looked back up when I no longer felt his penetrating gaze on me. I noticed a black cane with a silver head in his right hand which he began to swing idly as he spoke, “The doctors say they want to keep you longer, my dear. Personally, I cannot see why they deem you to require any more time in this establishment. You appear more than adept at standing and moving about.” He glance at me still stood awkwardly, uncertain if I had permission to move from my position and not wanting to push my luck when I was lucky he wasn’t angrier at me. “I informed those in charge that you will be discharged tomorrow morning.” He notified me. “I expect to see you at work tomorrow night as per usual – performing at your usual standard.” He hinted with a tone of warning, “I assume you have been maintaining your skills.”  
I averted my eyes at this and swallowed a sudden lump in my throat. I hadn’t. I had barely thought of my singing as I had lain in my bed day in, day out - my mind being too dominated with other thoughts, or completely empty from where I had given up.  
To fill the emptiness of my mind sometimes a few lyrics had run through my head, but I hadn’t sung a single note since I had collapsed in the club over a week ago. “Um…” I tried to meet his eyes as I srambled my brain to think of an explanation or excuse that didn’t sound ridiculous, “I – uh, I –“  
He stopped swinging his cane and placed it firmly onto the ground, leaning on it slightly as he shot me a look, and a deep “hmmm”, of disapproval. He then turned his thick neck to look back out the murky glass. “Whether you have or not you continue to perform you job tomorrow night.” He declared to the window frame without sympathy.  
I hung my head slightly at this obvious condemnation and trailed my feet over to my bed, perching lightly on the edge, staring unseeing at the well-worn floor. He clearly picked up on the low mood that had returned to me because he spoke up again, “I also expect you to keep your rather depressing emotions off the stage.” He instructed me, “No matter what happened between you and that insane clown.” My head snapped up at this to look at him. His back was to me but I could see him watching me in the reflection off the glass.   
“You know about that?” I asked in surprise.  
“I try to ignore him as a rule,” he told me, “But when interested parties are concerned I am known to get involved.” He said with a sniff, raising his chin up slightly. “It has also come to my attention that the Joker has been uncharacteristically quiet recently - aside from a one rather large incident a few evenings ago.” He turned around so he faced me fully and I could now see he wore a white shirt under a purple waistcoat that stretched tightly over his large stomach. “Upon further investigation it seemed it occurred soon after leaving this facility 4 days ago.” He raised his eyebrows at me suggestively. “If I know anything about that psychotic clown – which few do – I would guess he is now nursing a rather large bottle of potent alcohol.” He enlightened me, smirking darkly at the idea of the Joker drinking himself into a stupor.  
I sat in silence at the information. So he had clearly left to take his anger on the city – at least I should be glad he hadn’t taken it out on me. I wondered what he had done. I hadn’t heard anything about it in my isolated state here in my room. I hadn’t watched any TV, read any papers, or engaged in any conversations long enough to learn anything about current events. Now I was facing the consequences.  
It did surprise me however, that he had yet to seek me out again. Not that I wanted him to. No. Of course not. But he did seem to continually find his way back to me – like he always wanted to talk about something but he never brought it up straight away, but we also never managed a full conversation before something came between us. So why hadn’t he come back if - like Penguin said - all he was doing was sat with a drink?  
“I would not think too much on that psycho, my dear.” Penguin said guessing my thoughts and giving me a stern look under his dark brow. “Be appreciative that he saved you - but don’t neglect that he was the individual that placed you in these circumstances in the first place.” He pointed out with a gesture of his cane. I nodded slightly at this advice – a rare moment of almost-caring from the Penguin.  
He began to move towards the door, “I suggest you make the most of your final day off, my dear. You shall be making up for the time you have had off from now on.” He told me with a sneer – clearly attempting to make up for his previous kindly advice.  
“But it’s not my fault I’m in here!” I protested, spinning my body around so I faced him as he progressed to the door, the annoyance of the unfair punishment for being injured in hospital making me forget who I was talking to.  
“Neither is it mine.” He remarked snapping his cane sharply on the plastic floor and glaring over his shoulder at me.  
He regained his composure and turned back to the door - “I have meetings.” He stated simply and continued to limp forward, his cane clicking with each stride. “I will be ensuring you are at work tomorrow night.” He warned me at the doorway before vanishing around the frame.  
My body still twisted so I faced the door, I remained sat on the edge of my bed as I listened to his steps ebb away down the corridor. I then stood up smoothly and walked slowly and almost carefully toward the door before abruptly slamming it shut. It didn’t give me nearly as much satisfaction as I hoped for and I threw myself back down onto my mattress feeling hot angry tears fall from my eyes and dampen my sheets.


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay in this one - I've been really busy with uni and the revision period is looming!  
> I'll try to get the next one out soon as (yet again) I've written too much so have split this chapter into 2 again so the next part is already partially written - though I won't make too many promises as it may still take me forever!
> 
> Thank you for all the positive feedback so far! It means sooooo much to me - I get a huge smile whenever I see a kudos, review or comment so THANK YOU SOOO MUCH! I LOVE YOU ALL!!!! :D  
> Enjoy! x

I was finally dismissed from the hospital at around 3 o’clock the following afternoon and I was sure my nurses were happy to see my moping ass leave. I dragged my small suitcase of things I had accumulated over my stay across the tarmac to the taxi stand when I caught a familiar black car waiting on the opposite side of the road to me. Thank goodness - Penguin had sent me a car. I wheeled my case to the passenger side and the driver took my bag from me as I slid into the back of the car.  
I stared silent and unseeing out the car window as we drove back to the club. I didn’t say anything to the driver but offered him a weak wobbly smile in thanks as he handed me my belongings from the boot.   
It had been over a week since I had been in my flat. As I stepped over the threshold I dropped my bags at my feet and sighed loudly. The familiarity of the space sent a wave of calmness over me but as the finality of the door shutting behind me caused reality to soon crash back down on me and the weight of recent events settled back onto my shoulders.  
I stood for a while staring into the open planning living space, not really seeing it. I contemplated the thoughts in my mind – trying to catch one for long enough to consider it by they darted around my mind like annoying flies and it soon became overwhelming. I could feel the tears pooling at my eyes again but I quickly wiped them away angrily.  
I was not going to break down again.  
One step at a time was what I needed I thought to myself. I grabbed the handle of my bag and dragged it and myself to my bedroom. I threw it haphazardly into the corner- not a care for the few items it contained and not having the energy to unpack them.  
First thing – a shower. I embraced the heat of the water as it streamed over me, but I didn’t allow myself to stand and wallow in my thoughts, instead ensuring I took the time to thoroughly massage shampoo and conditioner into every strand of hair and letting the high pressure rinse out the suds and pound into every inch of my skin. By the end all of my muscles felt largely more relaxed, and even my mind felt slightly less manic than previously.  
The false calmness vanished quickly though when I stepped out of the hot steam and the cool air of my existence hit me. I ran a towel through my hair, wringing out the worst of the water onto my bathroom floor and then wrapped myself in my dressing gown. I trudged back into my room and hugged my arms against my chest as the edge of my bed gave way beneath me and I stared at the cream wall in front of me.  
I quickly shot myself to my feet with energy I didn’t know I had. I was not getting sucked into my depression again. I needed step 2. Food.  
There wasn’t much in my kitchen – most of the things in the fridge having gone out of date whilst I was in hospital and so I spent a few minutes filling my bin with out of date yogurts.  
I worked my way through my cupboards ditching a loaf of bread that was looking a bit green, before finding a box of cereal bars and some crackers.  
I feasted on the box of the oaty bars and spread some butter on a few slightly stale crackers before turning flopping down on my sofa to watch TV – hoping a mindless soap opera would keep any serious thoughts out of my mind.  
The screen flickered onto the news channel and I remained on it to see what I had missed the last few days.   
“4 have been confirmed dead and 19 injured in an attack on a series of bars and night clubs on Sunday night. The offender has now been established as the arkham-escapee known as The Joker, police are still unsure of his whereabouts and are urging people to be on guard at all times and not to approach The Joker if seen or anyone associated with him. If you do –“  
I changed the channel. The screen flashed to a scene of mountains and a documentary continued to explain about the effect of climate change on the landscape and ecosystem - I tuned it out.  
So that was what he had done. He had found the nearest group of people and did what he did best. I gulped. How was it possible for me to like someone like that? He was a deranged, murderous psychopath! So you keep saying [Y/N] but that doesn’t seemed to have changed anything does it?  
I shook my head at myself – dispelling my thoughts. This had nothing to do with me. My feelings were my own – I wouldn’t act on them. They would be my little secret. Just because I felt them didn’t mean I had to act on them. They would stay buried.  
What he did had nothing to do with me and I shouldn’t feel guilty I – he could kill people all he wanted and I would ensure I never saw him again. Maybe I could make a deal with Penguin when he was less annoyed at me – something that would make him ban the Joker. Then I could continue on with the life I had here. Maybe try to be more social – get some friends. Maybe even a boyfriend.  
When I thought of the guy before me at a table on a date I saw a boy with pale skin and green hair beaming at me and waving. I shook my head again but more violently so my skull pounded afterwards. Okay lets not think about that right now. Steps remember. Steps.  
I stood up and carried my plate to the kitchen where I dumped it in the sink for another time. I glanced at the clock and changed my mind – choosing to scrub the plates and then move onto the kitchen surfaces. Before I knew it I was cleaning my whole flat still wrapped in my dressing gown, the radio on and me singing to myself and dancing lightly around the floor.  
I actually felt a bit better.  
When I finally took a break I noticed the time and felt happier to get dressed for my shift tonight. I found a favourite dress of mine – comfortable but still sexy enough to catch people’s attention whilst I was on the stage.  
In the back of my head I noted it was a deep green but didn’t think twice – heck it was my favourite colour – sue me.  
I didn’t, however, catch that the heels I pulled on were a dark, vibrant purple or that my eye makeup cast a mauve shadow across my lids. I let my hair hang lose and made my way down to the club scene.  
“Evening.” I greeted Oliver Grimms who stood, as usual, on the sidelines. He looked me up and down and something flashed across his features that I didn’t catch before he wiped his face blank again. He gave a nod.  
“Good to have you back.” He said rigidly. I guess he blamed me for my absence as well.   
“Can we keep it simple tonight?” I asked, “Nothing new.”  
“Well as much as I would love to spite you,” he sneered at me, “I really wasn’t given my warning you were coming back.” He grumbled, clearly silently cursing Penguin in his mind. “Therefore,” he snapped, “I only have a few of your usual numbers actually planned,” he jabbed at his clipboard, “anything else is up to you.” He muttered, turning his attention to the paper again.  
I didn’t care for his attitude – but it was nothing new. I gave him a smile anyway to annoy him and made sure to strut with confidence I didn’t really feel to the steps that led up to the stage. It would have felt like I had never left if it wasn’t for the niggling feeling in the back of my mind that there problems I wasn’t confronting and were constantly threatening to overwhelm me.  
I pushed it further back into my mind. Now was definitely not the time.  
I stood before the microphone and the band started up behind me as I gazed out at the crowd. I could tell now the crowd before me wasn’t as large as usual and no one was watching the stage, unlike before when I would perform previously.  
I couldn’t help my eyes wandering over to the familiar booth and I felt my heart drop when it was empty. What were you expecting?! I yelled internally at myself and nearly missed the start of the song.  
I began to sing ‘Grow Up’ by Paramore and, once I had sung a few lines, I noticed all eyes in the club turn to me. I heard a few of the regulars cheer when they recognised and I blushed profusely and found myself watching the microphone in front of me for a few lines before I felt brave enough to look back out at the audience. They were all up on their feet now, eyes on the stage or each other and starting to dance. It felt good to be back and I almost forgot about the empty booth at the back of the room as I belted out the lyrics owning the stage as I strode up and down, moving to the beat.  
I enjoyed the crowd, the atmosphere and the familiar feeling I got with expressing myself through my song choice. I felt 5 times lighter when I finally moved off the stage having finished my final set. I was feeling so good in myself I didn’t feel like locking myself back up in my flat to mope and crawl back into myself so I headed towards the bar, despite my previous experience there.  
I perched myself on an end stool, away from the bussle of the main club and waited for the regular bartender – Justin – to get a moment, gesturing to him that I was in no rush and that he should finish off with the actual customers. As I waited I peered over my shoulder at the rest of the club watching the couples, the best friends, the lads on a night out. Again my eyes travelled through the forests of sweaty bodies to the booth.  
It wasn’t empty anymore. I took a double take. Sure enough there was Penguin sat on the side of the booth facing me. From this distance I could make out his usual top hat sat onto his head and his usual black suit and waistcoat. Sat across from his was another suited man but I couldn’t make out much more because he was cast in shadow.  
I turned back to the bar to order myself a drink but soon found myself looking back over my shoulder to glare at those who would dare to sit in the booth. Clearly Penguin was certain the Joker wouldn’t be returning anytime soon and was making the most of it. It filled me with anger for some reason and I couldn’t quite understand why – it was Penguin’s club after all, he could do what he wanted.  
As I sipped at my drink my eyes remained glued on the two business men until Penguin suddenly met my eyes. I twisted my neck around in shock and stared wide eyed at the counter in front of me, nervously fiddling with my glass. I felt my cheeks red and hot from being caught and his eyes were burning into the back of my skull – urging me to turn around and face the consequences.  
I gathered myself, swung back the last of my drink in a single gulp and spun the stool so that I fully faced the open club floor. Penguin was watching me and he lifted his hand up to gesture me over and the man in front of him turned to follow the Penguin’s gaze.  
I had slid off my seat but stopped suddenly when I saw the half of the man’s face that faced me as it caught the light. He was too far away to see in detail but I could see it was bald, red, skinless and the curve of the eyeball was obvious. Only one man looked like that. Two-face.  
The Penguin noticed my hesitation and furrowed his brow, gesturing again at me to come over. I headed towards him - this time more cautiously.  
“Evening my dear Perfect timing.” Penguin greeted with a sneer as I neared, and I Two-face nodded at me with a creepy grinning forming on his deformed face. I frowned at the statement – perfect for what?  
Penguin looked me up and down as I stopped before their table – something I noticed he seemed to do a lot, “You’re looking very…,” he trailed off as though searching for a word before smiling, “Clown-like” he drawled hintingly. I looked down at my outfit and realisation hit me when I noticed my colour scheme of green and purple. I felt my cheeks reignite with embarrassment. Oh my god. Was it really so obvious that I did this because of him? What was I doing? Did the joker really have this much control over my mind?   
Penguin observed my silence with a stern look as I remained deep in thought, “Your appearance aside,” he jeered, “you appear to have settled back into your performance once again.” He pointed out sitting back in his chair. I nodded in agreement at this. “But now I have another proposition for you.” I looked at him confused and then glanced at Two-face who still had a creepy smile across his face.  
“Since,” Penguin started, “you seem to have a certain flare for entertaining crime lords, Mr Dent here,” he said gesturing to the monster before him, “would like to hire your services.” I couldn’t believe what I was hearing and I felt my mouth hang open. “Oh course I declined!” he added quickly and I breathed a sigh of relief but the smile on two-faced man was still worrying me.  
“He then of course offered me more money…” Penguin trailed off, looking at me from under the rim of his hat, “and you know that I need to make up for the money you have cost me recently.” He leered. No. I didn’t like where this was going. “So I agreed.” He said simply, confirming my fear.  
“No.” I squeaked, barely managing to say it out loud and I continue to mouth the word over and over. This couldn’t be true. He wasn’t renting me out to other people?! I thought he wasn’t too bad – for a crime lord – but now. Now though he was reaffirming his title.  
Fear had flooded my body, but Two-face’s grin had got bigger. Somehow I didn’t think he was hiring me to sing for him. I felt my face turn red – with anger or embarrassment I didn’t know. But I couldn’t stay here. I turned on my heel and stormed off – leaving the criminals to their drinks and illegal deals.  
I ran back to my room - not stopping till I had cleared the stairs and had shut the door firmly behind me. But somehow my room didn’t feel safe anymore. Penguin owned the room after all. He owned me too - he could come in here and do what he wanted without me being able to stop him. I consider my gun sat by my bedside but I knew I wouldn’t get far with all his men littered around the building.   
I had to face it - I had signed the contract in a moment of fear never thinking how it could truly be used against me. Now I was getting the full consequences of my stupidity.  
I could feel tears rolling down my cheeks yet again. I was sick of being used and abused by these criminals and villains. Why couldn’t they just kill me like they would to anyone else?!  
I dragged myself to my room and fell onto my bed, curling myself into a ball and hugging my legs to my chest tightly. It didn’t take long for me to fall back into my thoughts as I rested my head heavily on the green duvet beneath me. So - as I lay curled up into a foetal position on my bed, my arms wrapped around me my hair fanning out behind me in tangles - I let my thoughts consume me once again as I choked on sobs until they I eventually fell into an exhausted sleep.


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone - next part is ‘ready’  
> It’s not my best work - bits I like, bits I don’t but I don’t want to spend forever on it, otherwise I’ll never get it out.  
> I really hate my writing at the moment - hopefully I’ll get better the more I write though - fingers crossed! Thanks for putting up with me and my terrible writing at the moment!  
> Hope you enjoy anyway!
> 
> P.S Thank you all for the comments and reviews - they mean the world to me and make my day - I can't help but grin like the Joker when I read them!!!! :D

I woke up groggily and wondered why I had until I heard a knock at my door. I didn’t want to move. My head was fuzzy and I was too depressed to try to crawl out of bed – though I couldn’t remember why at the moment.   
A harder, more persistent knock rung out through my flat and I heaved myself out of bed and trudged to the door.  
I opened it and found myself looking at an dark, open shirt hanging loosely on a familiar white chest. I looked up at his face and his painted crimson lips stretched into his signature grin. I stared at him in silence. What was he doing at my door?! Last thing I heard he was drinking himself into oblivion and wreaking havoc throughout Gotham. “Evening Doll.” He purred and pushed his way past me into the flat and I didn’t attempt to stop him. I didn’t move for a few moments trying to figure out what to do, before closing my front door turning to watch him stroll into the centre of the room.  
He looked different from the last time I saw him when he had seemed confused, annoyed and maybe even pained. Now he stood there, devil and riches like I use to know him, only emphasising the shabbiness of my flat. I didn’t know why he was here. He had left so abruptly last time for reasons I still didn’t understand - other than to go and shoot up a few nearby businesses.  
I watched him as he surveyed my living room in his purple coat and smart trousers. The sight of his was bringing everything I felt towards him flooding back. But I knew what he was. What he did. So why did I still have feelings towards him that were so close to caring. I couldn’t deny it – the way I had stepped in to stop him being killed, the way I had felt when I was sure he was dead, the way each kiss we shared overwhelmed me, leaving me without a thought left in my silly smitten head.  
It was indescribable what I felt towards him – one minute I hated him with a passion – all his torturing, controlling behaviour and angry mood swings. The next I was trying to save him - terrified I would never hear that psychotic laugh again, kissing him with an intensity I had never experienced before.  
Maybe he had manipulated me into thinking and feeling these things. He seemed to love nothing more than to worm his way into people’s mind, morphing and corrupting until they resembled something similar to him, where every thought they had was one tailor made by him and every feeling exactly what he wanted them to feel. He executed every move according to his own plan and no one changed that – nothing that had happened could possibly be unplanned by him.  
Then what was the explanation for the night in the hospital? Why had he never left until that point in the hospital corridor? Had my explanation of the club events thrown him? It was clear that somehow he hadn’t known everything that had happened on that night – but that couldn’t be the only reason he had left – he never lost his cool like that. Was this all a plan – what did he hope to gain from it?  
I stood there wracking my brain and almost forgot the Joker was in the room. I couldn’t even hope to understand how his mind worked and I didn’t pretend to understand how he felt or what he was thinking.  
He had stopped looking around and now turned to face me. “Doll, you look like you’re thinking very hard about something.” He smirked at me.  
I frowned at him, “What are you doing here?”  
“What are you doing here, Dollface?” he leered back at me. That was a weird thing to ask – even for him. I ignored his question. I was trying to resist the strong urge to get closer to him - instead remaining where I was by the door and wary of his every action.   
He didn’t seem to care that I hadn’t answered him and instead stepped toward me. As he reached for me I instinctively retracted so I ended up pressed against the door behind me, his body only inches away from my own. His face was so close that his eyes bright blue eyes filled my vision as I breathed in the alcohol on his breath and his strong scent of cologne, smoke and sweat.  
I could feel him already beginning to intoxicate me again and I knew I needed to get away from him. He wasn’t good for me. He twisted my mind and I never knew where I stood with him.   
“What’s on your mind kitten?” he breathed seductively. I knew I couldn’t tell him the truth so I frantically searched my mind for anything I could use.  
“Penguin” I blurted out in a rush. He quirked a hairless eyebrow in question at my vagueness, “Uh- he’s- he said that because I liked to entertain crime-lords he’s going to basically rent me out. To Two-face.” I explained briskly. He raised both of his invisible brows at this but I couldn’t understand the emotion behind his eyes.  
He stepped back from me slightly, putting a bit of space between us. “Well you are entertaining.” He admitted with a grin, flashing his metal cased teeth. I felt my temper flare at this. I wasn’t expecting sympathy, but I also wasn’t expecting acceptance from him. This was the man that up till now had shown only anger and annoyance at any other guys’ attention on me and now he was making jokes at it. What was wrong with him?  
He was confusing me and hurting my head with my attempts to keep up with him. It was tiring and I wanted to go back to bed, curl up and stay in the oblivion of sleep. I needed to get away from this life.  
I wanted to leave. Escape these people. These psychopaths. But I didn’t want to run from the city – Gotham was my home – and it had been for so long - I didn’t really know any other life. Plus I had the contract with Penguin. If I broke that he’d kill me. If I ran he’d track me down and kill me. And there was nothing I could offer him to bargain my way out of it. I was stuck; there was nothing I could do.  
I sighed out loud in despair and I sagged in his grip. The Joker picked up on this. “Aww come on Kitten,” he pouted at me, tightening his grip once again on me. “Smile!” he exclaimed brightly shaking me slightly. I looked up at him and I could feel tears brimming in my eyes. This was stupid. Tears weren’t going to help. But my emotions were already taking over and I couldn’t stop the drops cascading down my cheeks as he shook me again.  
He suddenly released me and I almost fell from the lack of support, stumbling forward. Somehow I stayed upright and I glanced around to see he was now on the other side of the room looking out the window. I frowned in confusion. He moved fast. But I shrugged it off.   
“Are you still annoyed?” He asked out of the blue still looking out the window. Did he always have that cane in his hand?  
“About what?” I asked confused.  
“You left.”  
“What?! When?!” I demanded, getting more confused.  
“The last time we met. The hospital.” He said innocently, turning to me, looking like a lost school boy, his blue eyes clear and harmless. It was weird and alarming. I began to panic. He must be messing with me but I didn’t know how and I was worried I was unknowing playing right into his hands.  
“No I didn’t. You did.” I retorted, trying to stop my voice from shaking.  
“No doll. It was all you.” He murmured sadly and almost gently. That didn’t make any sense. And when had he ever been gentle?! What was going on?!  
“You’re different.” I stated, scared and I backed up till I felt I had the safety of the door against me.  
“No I’m not kitten.” He purred his eyes vague and unfocused. He must have noticed my movements because he began to walk towards me with large strides.  
I pushed myself up against the door firmly trying to put as much distance between us as I could, my hand seeking blindly for the door handle. I couldn’t find it and I glanced quickly down to aid my search. Abruptly I was jerked back upright with his hand on my throat. I gasped in pain and the constriction around my windpipe. He stared into my eyes without a word as though searching for something.  
“Are you drunk?!” I demanded, desperate for an explanation of his behaviour.  
“Not touched the stuff. Cross my heart.” He answered, leaning back slightly and using his free hand to make a cross gesture over his chest - the tattooed smile beaming at me twistedly. I couldn’t tell if he was lying, but I remembered smelling alcohol on his breath, though he always seemed to smell like he had been in a drinks cabinet. Plus his behaviour didn’t strike me as drunk either - but he certainly wasn’t acting normal.  
“Are you high?” He shook his head. I didn’t completely believe him and I scowled. I wasn’t putting up with this right now. Even if he wanted to forget what had happened at the hospital by drinking or drugging himself into oblivion I definitely was not going to go down with him. I was going to remain sane.  
“Can you let go of me?” I asked calmly but with a warning tone. His grip tightened on my throat instead and I gripped at his wrist as he lifted me onto my toes.  
“Now why would I do that dear?” he snarled as he pushed me up against the door harshly, the force knocking my head against the wood and I gasped for breath under his gasp. Whatever boyish act he had been playing earlier was long gone – he was back to his murderous self. The next thing I knew there was a cold blade against my throat I felt the prick of it cutting into my skin beneath my jaw.  
“W-what are-“ I gasped,  
“Shhh, ssh, ssh baby.” He purred, “the more you talk, the more it cuts.” He grinned and threw his head back with a laugh before facing me again, his grin still spread widely. “I needed to appreciate you without all that chit chat – you always talk too much.”  
He eyes roamed my face as I attempted to maintain my regular breathing. I bit down on my lip to keep myself silent and his eyes moved to watch me roll my bottom lip between my teeth with nerves.  
“You need to stop doing that Doll – it drives me insane…” He murmured lowly as he placed more pressure on the blade. I gasped again, releasing my lip, as the sharp sting of the knife-edge broke my skin. I could feel the blood pooling in the shallow wound and I whimpered slightly, but it was soon muffled when his lips captured mine.  
It caught me off guard and his tongue made the most of my open mouth. This was more intense than any other kiss we had shared - the pleasure mixing with the pain of his bruising grip and the knife pushed into my lower jaw. He kissed me forcefully and I moulded to him, ignoring the warm liquid oozing down my throat as he also pushed more firmly on the blade. I couldn’t seem to connect in my mind that it was my blood and it only seemed to add to the sensation of the moment.  
I now truly couldn’t breathe because of his grip and his lips attached to mine, but I wasn’t strong enough to pull out of his grip.  
I was drowning in his kiss.  
I shot my eyes open as the lack of oxygen began to reach me. I tried to squirm in his grasp but he simply pressed his entire length up against me, pinning me back to the door again. Now I could only move my head but this just caused the knife to dig deeper into my neck and cut a longer line across my skin. I tried to talk, but the force of his lips against mine meant I could only manage a bunch of mumbled incoherent words.  
I wormed my hands between his chest and mine, pushing with my remaining strength, feeling dizzy from my lack of oxygen. Finally he pulled back and I was left panting for the little air I could get through the constriction he kept on my throat. Each shaking inhalation I took stung my throat as it pushed against the blade, but it was worth it for the relief to my lungs.  
“You know doll,” he said removing the knife nonchalantly from my throat; “I really like you. Too much. It ain’t good for anyone.” He admitted, rambling to himself and waving the knife in the air as he spoke.  
“I mean you’ve nearly got yourself killed at least 3 times now doll,” he pointed out, “And you nearly got me killed too!” he exclaimed, waving the knife at himself. I was trying to concentrate on his words, but I was too focused on trying to breathe and keeping my eyes on the weapon flying through the air. The look of slight confusion in my features seemed to prompt him to explain further, “You see kitten, you’re the reason I was in that alley in the first place.” He growled, pointing the knife at me, “If it wasn’t for you the voices wouldn’t be so loud. I wouldn’t have drunk so much and I wouldn’t have been in the alley without my gun!” He cried manically and I flinched as he wielded the blade wildly around, inches away from my face.  
“But, doll.” He stated, his tone abruptly becoming calmer as his mood switched, and he brought the knife up to my face again, “I know now that I’ve got you.” He purred, poking my right cheek with the tip of the blade. “Why else would an innocent young thing like yourself kill to save someone like me?” he questioned, tilting his head and frowning in pretend thought. “And why would that same little girl be so distraught over the same insane clown’s demise?” he said tilting his head further.  
He lazily rolled his head back upright. “But I really just wanted to hear you say it.” He murmured studying my face before locking his eyes on mine, “You were always so clearly trying to hide it - though your eyes were so obvious.” He crooned, stroking the tip of the knife against my cheek, “And you did it all so willingly.” He praised and I looked at him in disgust at the way he had used me. This only caused him to crack a manic grin throw back his head, his pitchy cackle echoing in my head.  
His laugh rang on till he was doubled over, the grip on my throat slackening and the knife in his hand that hugged his stomach as he chuckled. “Hoo hoo hahaha” The Joker giggled as he stood back upright and collected himself somewhat. He used his knife hand to wipe away tears from his eyes. His gaze met my face again and his grin dropped, replaced with a sober look.  
“So the question, dollface, is - what do we do now?” He looked me dead in the eye and I could feel myself quailing under his intense stare until I couldn’t hold his eyes any longer, dropping my eyes as much as I could in his grasp. He shook me like a rag doll, “Look at me doll.” He demanded, gritting his teeth in annoyance. I obliged and he smirked cruelly. The Joker seemed to consider his options for a moment - moving his head from side to side, his eyes roaming the room as he twirled the knife in his hand.  
Suddenly his actions stopped abruptly and he slowly rotated his face back to mine – his red lips broad and wide in a stiff grin, as though he was suffering from rigor mortis. The look terrified me more than anything I had ever seen and I went rigid in fear not daring to breath.  
Then - his hand still wrapped tightly around my throat, holding me in place - he plunged the knife into my stomach. He released his grip on my neck as I doubled over, my eyes shut in agony, but he kept the knife embedded in my body as he bent down to my level and gripped my shoulder with his free hand.  
He moved his face to my right ear, “I died for you. Now you die for me.” He breathed, the words ringing faintly in my head but not truly registering over the pain that screamed through my body. He pulled back from me and withdrew the knife sharply. I gasped at my stomach desperately as if I could somehow stop the bleeding with my own hands.  
When I managed to look up he was gone. I was in my flat.  
Except now I was in the main room of Penguin’s club - the familiar neon lights illuminating the tables and chairs before me and the bar providing a cold glow from my left. But when I looked over at the bar I didn’t see the counter and walls of booze, instead my bed sat up against the wall – exactly as it had been last night before I had fallen asleep.  
I brushed this aside for now, as weird as it was it didn’t seem important. I was still doubled over and I looked at my stomach where my hands were clasped. I needed to do something about my injury. I decided to examine it, even now it didn’t hurt as much and I was surprised I wasn’t in more pain. I lifted my hands from the wound. Except there was no tear in my top. There was no blood soaking my shirt. No blood on my hands. I pulled my shirt up slightly - there was no wound.  
Now it suddenly occurred to me. I never got undressed last night. I should still be in my dress. Why was I in a shirt and jeans?  
“[Y/N]?” I looked back up and turned to the voice behind me. A gun range spread before me and as instructor held a gun out to me. “You’re bleeding!” he exclaimed looking at my stomach. I dropped my gaze back down to where I still felt a weird ache from the ‘injury’. I still wasn’t bleeding. I looked up in confusion at the man before me. But he was gone. In his place was the Joker and he had a gun aimed at me. He pulled the trigger.  
Then I woke up. The pain of my injuries fading away as reality flooded back to me. I had dreamt it all. I was still curled up in bed with my dress from the night before on. All my problems still existed.  
But I knew I had to stop all of this. No more crime lords and villains.  
I had a plan.  
I was going to take a page out of the Joker’s book.


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys - I haven't really read over this one much but I really wanted to get it posted and its 1am here, I'm exhausted and want to go to bed, but i wanted to get it done tonight - so I apologize if there is anything a bit wrong with it, poor grammar etc.   
> Anyway - thank you for all the kudos, comments and reviews I really appreciate any feedback you guys can give!  
> Thank you all sooo much for sticking with me!
> 
> WARNING: This contains suicidal themes - please don't read if this may be triggering for you!

I had awoken in a cold sweat, my breathing fast like I just sprinted for a few hundred metres. As twisted onto my side I could still feel a weird ache in my stomach from my supposed ‘stab’ wound and I even lifted my pyjama top to check once more that it had truly all been a dream. It had.  
It was still dark in my room and the clock on my phone read way too early, but there was no way I was closing my eyes again - it still felt all too real. So instead I lay awake, recapping the scenes that I could still remember until my mind seemed satisfied it had truly not happened and I was fine. Then I pulled myself up and out of bed.  
I splashed my face with water to help wake me up before deciding to take another shower in an attempt to alleviate some of stress I could still feel in my body, winding me tight. The hot water and soothing massage of soap did seem to ease the tension in my muscles and I stepped out feeling relatively refreshed - though the memories of the dream still lingered in the back of my mind. And my plan. That was what now niggled in my thoughts – waiting to be acted on, promising to put an end to all of this.  
I threw on my dressing gown – seeking comfort, knowing I had no need to be dressed and functioning really - and wandered through my darkened flat. The only light came from the street which shone in streaks through breaks in my curtains, illuminating strips of flooring and edges of furniture. I ran my hand over the rough area I knew a light switch would be and sought blindly before finding the plastic switch and flicking it to fill the room with the vivid artificial light that flooded the open room.  
After the spots faded my vision I made my way to the kitchen area and made myself a cup of strong coffee before grabbing my laptop off the side of the counter and curling myself up the sofa, settling the laptop on my bare legs.  
I spent the rest of the morning sat there researching and planning, only moving to refresh my coffee and chew on bits of dry cereal when I began to get hunger pangs. I soon felt I had looked at everything I needed at least twice and began to run out of ideas on what else to do with my time. I unfolded myself from my chair and felt my bones creak with the lack of use, my muscles stiff. Time to go for a walk, I thought and so I threw some half-decent clothes and headed out into the streets of Gotham with the idea to set everything up I needed.  
As I strode out the back door of the club I walked through the alley where I had killed the two men and I was reminded of the Joker, and so sharply reminded of last night’s dream. The dream had been my mind telling me how much I needed to get out. Leave. I couldn’t stay here. I was in constant danger and anyone who I thought might actually care about me clearly didn’t. There was nothing in my life at the moment apart from uncertainty and mental torture. I didn’t want that to become physical torture either – be that by the Joker or Penguin.  
The day was the usual over cast weather of Gotham as I moved through the dank streets. I still had the fear of the Joker suddenly appearing around one the streets and I would jump occasionally if I felt I saw flash of green. All were false alarms of course and I slowly began to feel more confident. By the time I returned back to the club I was far more relaxed and walking with more confidence. Besides, I was certain he had lost interest me, and therefore doubted he would want to follow me. Plus I was certain the man was nocturnal – I couldn’t imagine him strolling around Gotham in broad daylight – that would surely be a one way ticket back to Arkham.  
I had wasted most of the afternoon with my stroll around the city so I didn’t have much time to kill till I needed to get ready for work. The evening was as uneventful as I could make it – not making any particular effort to attempt anything new. The whole evening I tried to avoid looking for Penguin, and, when I did notice him across the room, walking near the staff corridor, I made sure to avoid eye contact and just finish my set. I couldn’t deny I was distracted though, and I felt my whole soul wasn’t in my singing – my mind still running through the my scheduled plan for tomorrow. Maybe that was for the best – in the end it might be better really that I seemed out of sorts.  
At the end of the night I made sure to dodge my way away from any conversations, narrowly avoiding Oliver who I knew would want to go over tomorrow’s schedule, never failing to make at least one criticism on tonight - whether it was my stage presence, the pitch or my outfit.  
I slipped past Oliver and out of sight as he headed to the backstage area, and I moved down the staff corridor. I was nearly at the end by the staircase to that lead to my upstairs flat when I froze at a noise behind me coming from Penguin’s office. I thought better about my position and I quickly dashed for the cover of the steps. I made it out of sight of the passageway as the door of the office opened. I stole a glance around the old dark staircase barrier to see a tall business man stood halfway out of the doorway, he seemed to be shaking hands with whoever was in the room – most likely Penguin.  
I didn’t loiter long, swiftly, but lightly springing up the remaining steps and then treading softly along the thin, worn carpet that led to my front door so that no one downstairs could hear me. Tonight I didn’t want to be disturbed by anyone.  
I closed my front door carefully behind me and then made my way to my bedroom. I was mentally exhausted from the stress of my plan and the events of the past few weeks were still catching up on me, but I knew these same thoughts were reducing my chances of sleep tonight.  
Never the less I braced myself for the hours of tossing and turning in my ever constricting bed linen, going through my usual evening routine mechanically before climbing into my bed lying wide awake, staring up at the greying ceiling above me. I was in for a long night I sighed.  
And sure enough, it was after the hundredth run through of tomorrow’s plan I finally fell into a exhausted sleep.

It was time. I could put it off no longer. A nearby clock tower struck 8am. I had chosen this hour for a reason – the streets of Gotham would be busy with commuters, both pedestrians and vehicles.  
I strode nonchalantly towards my destination, cars rushing past me where they could before they once again stuck in a blockade of traffic. Backstreets that I only dared to walk in the daylight offered some shelter from the chilly winds, though the cold of the morning still bit at my cheeks – the only bit of skin uncovered in the cold air.   
I left the protection of the alleyways as I stepped out onto the main road, the strong winds now being tunnelled down the wide streets and whipping strands of my air across my face until I have up and scrapped it back into a messy bun. I now made my way towards one of the many bridges that crisscrossed and stitched Gotham together, my bulging coat pocket knocking against my thigh with each stride as I followed the bright brake lights of the usual morning congestion until I met the waterside. I peered over the thick stone barriers at the dark swirl of water below. It looked bleak and cold. How inviting, I thought.  
I shook myself out of my thoughts and joined the crowd of people filing up the pavement and over the bridge. I was in no particular hurry and so was often shoved aside and overtaken by those running late for their early morning shifts.  
I stepped out to side so I was leant against the low wall that lined the bridge, seeking refuge from the flow of foot traffic. Next to me were a few tourists taking selfies or full landscapes of the skyscraper skyline on their mobile phones and chatting in different accents and languages.  
Now that I was here, staring out of the dark watery surface, I was becoming hot and bothered and I peeled my gloves off, my palms feeling clammy. I waited a bit longer - pretending to take in the view - the dark shadows of the towering offices standing out proudly against the dull, ashen sky. Eventually most of the people around me had moved off and I stood relatively alone as I glanced around, except for the steady flow of office workers and occasional vacationers that pasted by.  
I took a deep breath. No reason to put this off anymore. I placed my palms on the solid stone barriers in front of me, ensuring I chose the cleanest bit, avoiding the worst areas of old chewing gum and bird droppings – I owed myself that much dignity. I put all my weight into my forearms and swung myself up so I knelt on the cold ledge, blowing out a sharp breath to calm myself as I pushed myself to a crouch, ignoring the stares I was beginning to get.  
I made sure I had good balance on my feet before I pushed myself the rest of the way upright so that I stood facing out to the road and people milling before me.  
The wind slapped my cheeks even sharper up here but I ignored it and the few lose strands of hair that flew in front of my face. I could see people now staring openly at me and some slowing, though not stopping, to look at the weirdo stood on the bridge. Some seem to just be confused about the situation, but I though a saw a few with concern on their faces, though still no one had stopped.  
I could feel my exposed face becoming red and numb from the lashing wintery air. Damn I wish it wasn’t February – this might not be as bad if it was warmer.  
The road over the bridge was heavy congested and so I could see some people the static cars looking out their windows at me as I reached into my heavy coat pocket and wrapped my hands around my gun that lay nestled in the fold of material.  
I pulled the weapon out slowly, prolonging the moment as long as possible. Let everyone see. Get a good look, I thought as I brought the weapon out into the open. I heard a few gasps then, they probably feared more for their own lives then for mine in that moment. Some people who had begun to loiter did make a quick getaway then, in Gotham you rarely hung around at the sight of a weapon – random attacks being all too frequent on these streets – though I doubted many had occurred out of the cover of darkness and in the middle of a busy, crowded bridge. Though who was I to think this – there were some insane people in this city, and I was starting to believe I might be one of them.  
People seemed to relax slightly about their own safety when I raised the gun toward my head. Were people talking? Was someone asking me something? I couldn’t hear over the wind and the rush of blood in my ears. I drowned everyone out. My arms were shaking from all the attention on me. I tried to keep my eyes fixed in front on me, staring unseeing at the river I could make out on the other side of the bridge. Still, out the corner of my eye, I could see a few people step out of their cars, though they didn’t make any move to come closer.  
Though I couldn’t really see the gun anymore in my peripheral vision, I could feel its presence to the right of my temple. I felt tears slip down my cheeks. There were screams now; more people were getting out of their cars.  
That was nice. People seemed to care. But did they care? Or did they just not want to have to own up later if they saw me do this and never tried to do anything?  
People were getting closer now, but they still seem to act as though there was a 5 foot bubble in front of me. None of them dared to get closer than that and they formed a wall around this invisible boundary, their lips moving, eyes pleading. But I didn’t hear anything. It was like I was dreaming again, but I knew this was all too real.  
I couldn’t let people touch me. They couldn’t stop me. This was the plan and I had to go through with it. It was the only way I could think of.  
Then I noticed a new movement above all the others. Someone, a young girl around my age, was pushing through the wall of bodies. Her winter coat hung open with a scarf wrapped loosely around her neck and a woollen hat shoved quickly on her dark hair. She had come from one of the cars sat in the queue, the blue Volvo’s car door still open wide as she tried to worm her way through those who were too scared to get any closer to me. She seemed to generally care. That was nice. Gotham clearly hadn’t got to her yet. Maybe she wasn’t from around here. Maybe she was just visiting someone – a boyfriend maybe. Wouldn’t that be nice, I thought as my finger rested on the trigger.  
She had cleared the crowd now - her woollen hat having been lost in the mass, but she didn’t seem to care. The gun was becoming heavy in my hand now, my arm weakening from holding it up for so long. Get on with it! I snapped at myself. She was a few feet from me now crying something indistinct to my ear amongst the noises that roared in my ears. Was she saying to stop? Don’t do it? It didn’t really matter what she was saying – it wouldn’t stop me. She didn’t know me, didn’t know my situation, and didn’t know that this was the only way I could think of to get out of everything.  
I hoped her boyfriend was nice and this toxic city didn’t corrupt her as I finally pulled the trigger. I fell backwards, the chilling air rushing to meet me as I plummeted down, making my stomach drop. The sight of the bridge rushing away from me was enough to get me to shut my eyes, but not before I saw the girl’s head appear over the side of the railing. Sorry, I apologised silently, she didn’t need to experience this.  
I fell for longer than I thought, wondering if somehow the world had vanished around me and I was now just falling through a void in the universe. Just as I finished this thought however, I felt the stinging slap as my back collided with the steely surface of the river.


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok - here it is! The next part!
> 
> I’ve mixed it up a bit and have a section without the reader into it! Oooo I know controversial! ;)
> 
> Feeling quite good about this part - but again I have finished it at 1:40am so it might not be great quality - plus I’m not sure its really leto joker anymore - just general jokerish - so I apologise to anyone particularly after that!
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

The two crime bosses sat across from one another, Penguin in his usual tall wing backed chair, the Joker forced to settle for the slightly less impressive counterpart on the other side of the large oak desk. He made his position on his very clear with the way he carelessly sat on it - not deeming it good enough to use as a proper chair - instead he was slumped back, sunk low in the chair, one leg slung over one of the leather coated arms, his hands dangling between his spread legs as if this was the last place on earth he wanted to be.  
"You know why I requested your presence?" Inquired Penguin with a polite smile, hiding his smirk. Oh he was going to enjoy this. He folded his hand over one another on the desk in front of him, on top of a few sheets of paper that lay face down on the dark wood.  
"Can"t say I truly do, my feathery friend." sneered the Joker, glancing bored around the room, "But the only reason we ever seem to have these little chats anymore is because of a certain girl you're housing out the remaining speck of goodness in your tiny heart - so that'll be my first guess." He quipped, still refusing to face Penguin - too busy staring around the room unimpressed - as if the very decor insulted him.  
Penguin couldn't seemed to care less at the Joker's obvious disgust at his office, and instead continued on as if the Joker was as polite as any other business man that dared to sit across from him. "Yes, yet again this particular conversation does refer to Miss [L/N]." Penguin confirmed, looking down to hide the sly, knowing look that must be in his eyes, watching his hands move over the top of the papers.  
"Well don't trouble yourself over it, my beaky buddy!” Exclaimed the Joker with a manic grin, swinging himself out of the chair in a fluid, almost acrobatic motion, " I have nothing to do with that child anymore! So I don’t need your little tibits of gossip and no longer care what you have to say on the subject!" He beamed widely, “And if that is all my umbrella amigo, I shall bid you adeu!” he said loudly, before waving his hand in a farewell gesture, spinning around on the ball of his shiny purple shoes and striding toward the door.  
"Oh?" Questioned the Penguin, raising an eyebrow behind the monocle that perched over his right eye. He didn’t believe for a second that the Joker’s infatuation with [Y/N] could have been lost that easily. The Penguin knew the Joker relatively well by now - as well as one could know the psychotic fool anyway. He knew he was known to pick up and drop interest in things with the snap of a finger, and Lord knows how short that clown’s attention span was. But something told Penguin this was not one of those times and he was definitely going to use this against him..  
Usually Penguin would expect the Joker to know by now, having previously been keeping tabs on the girl in question - out of some weird sentiment he seem to have towards her - unknown to even the clown himself it would seem. However, since the hospital, the Penguin knew that the Joker had been keeping his distance from Miss [L/N] and attempting to ignore her very existence, therefore having discharged any followers on her he had previously employed.  
Penguin knew this. It was his business to know what everyone was doing. What they had done. And what they were going to do. That’s how he won.  
All this could only mean he didn’t know about the recent events at the bridge – how could he when they had happened moments ago and the story had yet to reach most of the public of Gotham. Penguin had only known because he always had his ear to the ground with the help of his little birds that flew around Gotham and reported back to him.  
This meant he was one up on the Joker and he could use this to his advantage. He could play with the clown prince himself. Toy with him like he did to others if he wanted, or give him the information willingly in return for a favour later. It was time to see which way the feather fell.  
Because - although the Joker claimed to no longer care about the girl – he clearly did.  
"So, you would not care to hear anything about her?" The Penguin prodded.  
"Have you water in your little birds ears?" Snapped the Joker, still not bothering to turn. "I don't care!" Mr Cobblepot smirked at his obvious defensiveness.  
"Not even if I said that she may be hurt?" Pushed the Penguin, tilting his head down so he peered over his monocle at the clown's back, enjoying the teasing and the ability to push the pyscho further and further to see when he snapped - how long he would continue to deny that he didn’t care what happened to [Y/N][L/N].  
The Joker had stopped this time at Penguin’s question and his shoulders rose steeply, and then dropped as he inhaled a long, deep breath – letting it out in a huff. "No." the green haired man shot over his shoulder nonchalantly, but Penguin could hear something in his voice which spoke the opposite. Having admitted this to himself, the Joker seemed to relax slightly, "I don't care." He said simply - almost joyfully now - as if the fact that he could say it had come as a welcome relief.  
"But what if I were to say," Began Cobblepot, with a sly smile at the gangsta’s back, as the joker began to step towards the door again, "that she was dead?" He inquired.  
The Joker shot around, finally facing the Penguin dead on, and the large business man couldn't help but flinch.  
The Joker face was a contortion between a grin and a snarl. It was terrifying in its insanity and anger. "Would you like to repeat that?" He growled.  
The Penguin swallowed as discreetly as he could - not wanting to show any slight sign of fear - knowing that was a sure sign of weakness in this game. Penguin was a powerful man - good with a weapon too - but the man before him was an insane psychotic murderer who was also currently in a state which could not be deemed ‘in control’. The temper of the Joker was well known, but Penguin had never had it directed at him before. He had only ever seen it aimed at the low life henchman that the Joker employed and those that got in his way. Penguin had ensured he was never one of those.  
The Penguin had to remain collected; he couldn’t crumble under the insanity that the Joker emitted like those before. He knew how to deal with the Jester - having plenty of experience before - it was best to generally ignore his mad behaviour, pretend he was like any other business partner who wanted something from him.  
He tore his eyes away from the madman and picked up the small collection of paper that lay before him. He cleared his throat, "At 8:43 this morning, Miss [L/N] was seen to climb onto the South Bridge, pull out a handgun and proceed to shoot herself in the head, before falling back into the Gotham River." The Penguin calmly informed him, sliding the papers now face up, across the desk toward the Joker who stalked forward. They showed pictures of the scene through a blurry camera phone. It was hard to see the girl's face but the Joker knew who it. He didn’t bother to pick the pictures up - not needing the evidence. The Penguin wouldn't feed him lies; he knew the Joker always found out the truth one way or another and he wouldn’t want to face the consequences of withholding information.  
The anger cleared from The Joker’s face as suddenly as it had come and a wide crazy grin spread across his face, hiding any emotions that might otherwise show. "What did you do?" He asked through his grin, raising his invisible eyebrows. His voice friendly and breezy but there was an underlying threat in his tone.  
"Nothing that I am aware of." Stated the Penguin in the same calm, monotone voice. He wanted to keep this civilised, but he was also wary of the sudden mood change in the Joker.  
“Whoo hoo hoo!” giggled the Joker insanely, “Why don’t I believe you?” he sneered, lunging forward across the desk and grabbing the Penguin by the lapel of his suit jacket. He pulled the large figure out of his chair and across the desk towards the possessed beam - bright against his pale face. The Penguin has instinctively grabbed his umbrella that sat next to his desk as he was yanked up – usually hidden from any colleagues or potential clients that sat across from him. It was now aimed at the Joker’s abdomen, the point of the umbrella now having swung down at the Penguin’s command to reveal the barrel of a gun and his finger now rested on the trigger.  
The Joker was shaking with his loud laughter now, the noise filling the small room. “Oh so birdy boy does know how to play!” He cried, enjoying the chaos he was making, “Violence is always the answer kids!" He sung through his giggles.  
Then his laughing stopped abruptly, and he clenched his fist tighter on the Penguins suit and pulled him closer, causing the gun to press deeper into his stomach. He didn’t seem to notice or care, “I'll ask again.” He stated simply and almost politely. “What. Did. You. DO?!” He spat out each word, snarling the last word, his teeth clenched together - the only thing holding back his temper.  
Penguin’s own temper was flaring now; he’d had enough of being flung around his office, man handled by the clown and so plainly disrespected in his own establishment. He snapped. "Nothing you didn't." He snarled.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The force of hitting the metallic surface jolted my back and forced my body to curl into a foetal position as I was held momentarily suspended as bubbles of air rushed past me, tickling my exposed skin. It took everything in me not to scream out in shock at the impact and sharp stinging sensation that spread along my back. Instead I tried to preserve the precious breath I had as the water cleared leaving me in the dark gloom of the water.  
Then the icy temperature began to register with my stunned body. It washed over me, the chill causing ever muscle in my body to tense even more than it already had from the fall. I tried to not thrash in the freezing water, though every instinct told me to move for any chance of heat. I could feel myself rising slowly now and my lungs were starting to burn. I needed to move.  
I tried to figure out which direction to head, but nothing in the bleak gloom gave me any indication so I tried to think back to how I had fallen and began to swim roughly in the direction of the bridge.  
I knew I wasn’t the strongest swimmer, and my ability to hold my breath was not exactly Olympic standard so I frantically kicked my legs as fast as possible, no thought to how efficient my movement was as I scrambled blindly though the river water. All the time I was conscious to stay at least a few feet from the surface to prevent breaking it with a rogue foot.  
I hadn’t been going long, and I wasn’t sure the distance I had covered, but my lungs were already screaming and I my limbs were beginning to burn, but I could no longer really feel the icy water around me. I had to keep going. I couldn’t break the water too soon and risk people seeing – if they did my whole plan was ruined and I had no way out. But I couldn’t seem to stop myself from slowly rising upwards - no matter how hard I tried.  
My progress was slowing now to no more than a foot with each stroke, but I kept paddling desperately with any energy I had despite my exhausted muscles. My lungs were on fire and I couldn’t stop myself from releasing the breath I had been holding, watching hopelessly as a large burst of bubbles sprung up before me, floating gently to the surface as I pushed through them. The release of the air seemed to ease my lungs slightly though and I pulled myself downwards one last time.  
The water felt like it was getting thicker, each stroke heavier than the one before. But I pushed my way through the water far as I could, all the time sliding back up to the surface and the tantalizing fresh air that hung above me.  
Finally I felt my shoulder blades break the surface and I pulled my head up into the wintry air, gasping, for any oxygen I could get. I tried to calm my breathing enough to actually take a decent lungful of air as I tread water, wiping the droplets from my eyes so that my vision cleared and I could quickly glance around.  
I had made it. Thank God.  
I was just beneath the edge of the bridge, if I had given up any sooner I would have been seen by the concerned onlookers above. But I also knew I couldn’t stay here long – people would begin searching for a body soon. I pushed my weary muscles once more, allowing my head to stay above the surface as I paddled to the nearest shore where one of the bridge supports grew from the bank.  
I pulled myself out onto the mud, crawling my way away from the water - my fatigued legs not capable of much else. I turned over and collapsed on to my back on the sandy sludge, panting and wheezing for any available oxygen. After a few breaths I pulled myself up and awkwardly shuffled myself backwards so that I leant against the steel framework of the bridge. I hugged my legs to my chest as a gust of wind reminded me how cold I was, pushing my drenched clothing against my skin and drawing the remaining heat from my body.  
Above me the bridge ran from the support behind me out to the river in one direction and onto Gotham the other way. I knew I couldn’t just causally walk out into the streets of Gotham - dripping with grimy river water - without drawing attention to myself, let alone the fact that most people around had just seen me shoot myself and fall from the bridge.  
Now that I thought about it I realised I didn’t have my gun anymore. I had released at the impact of hitting the water and I had been too worried of getting out of sight to think about finding it.  
It must be at the bottom of the river by now.  
“Damn.” I cursed quietly to myself. I had grown attached to that gun. But maybe it was for the best – this way maybe it would be easier to forget about the Joker.  
I could hear sirens now in the distance – not unusual for Gotham – they could be going to any number of events throughout the city - but if they were coming here my time was running out.  
I pushed myself to my legs - still numb and shaky from my recent intense activity. I looked above me where the bridge ran overhead, the bottom made of heavy steel bars. I counted 5 along from the left edge and jumped up to grab the handle of a rucksack I had stashed the day before. I pulled out a change of clothes and peeled off my soaked ones, replacing them with a new, drier set. I felt warmer instantly.  
I threw the bag back up to its hiding location, throwing the sodden clothes next to it and looked at the bar to the right. I knew for a fact there was a decent size gap between the bars and the actual bottom of the bridge – enough for a person of my size to sit.  
What I hadn’t considered was how drained my muscles would be from the swim – how was I going to pull myself up?!  
I had to try - the sirens were getting nearer and I didn’t have long before people starting sweeping the water and banks for my body. I looked up at the bars above me, shaking my arms out in preparation. Ok I needed to try.  
I jumped up and grabbed at the edge of the metal bar, but my fingers slipped and I ended up sprawled on the dirt below me, “Ah!” I gasped. I gathered myself back to my feet and took a few deep breaths to calm my heart that was racing in the panic of being found.  
I leapt up again, getting a firm hold, managing half a pull up before my arms proved too weak and gave way so that I landed back on my feet on the floor. I heard the sirens on the bridge now and then they were cut silent. They were here and they’d be down on the riverside soon.  
Come on [Y/N] you’ve done this loads of times before – just one more burst of energy!  
I leapt again, grabbing a firm hold on the rim and swinging my legs forward and my body backwards. I felt my arms protest but I pushed through - desperation sending one more adrenaline rush through me as I managed to swing myself high enough to get one of my knees on the bar.  
I scrambled my way up, clawing at the smooth surface till I hung on the bar on my stomach, my legs dangling down in mid-air. I finally manage to swing one leg over so I was straddling the steel. “Thank God” I whispered, breathing a sigh of relief - I was safe. I brought my legs up out of sight of the bank and stretched them out over the rest of the support, my back resting against one of the metal struts that connected the framework.  
I settled myself in for a long wait in the dark shadows of the bridge, pulling my jacket close against my body. At least I was shelter from the wind here.  
And so I sat there, listening to the footsteps of the search parties making their way down to the waterside to look for my corpse.


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New part ready!  
> I played around with the format of it a bit - trying a few new things out - so let me know what you think!  
> Thank you for all the support - I get so happy when i see someone has left a comment, review or a kudos! It makes my day!  
> Enjoy!

I don’t really know how long I sat there, but the hard steel beneath me quickly became very uncomfortable. I tried to stop myself fidgeting too much in case anyone caught sight of movement above them in the shadows.

There was a quite a team they had put together who swarmed around beneath me. They didn’t seem content with not finding a body on the bank and so were now scavenging for any object that might connect to me. I couldn’t see further out into the river than the immediate water below, so I wasn’t sure if they were searching the deeper parts of the river yet, but I could hear others shouting beyond the bridge in a way that suggested they were giving instructions, and the sound of a motor belonging to some sort of vehicle had started up, loud and reverberating in the echo-y space around me - making it even harder to hear what people were doing.

I sat there for hours bored out of my mind, the only thing I could do was listen to the conversations, only getting frustrated when all I could manage to hear was a few distinct words amongst a consistent mumbling. Some people got close enough for me to actually make out what they were saying, but I got bored of their conversations quickly – most people questioning at least once why I would do it - how shit my life must had gotten - and speculating what could have pushed me this far.

After a while, though, some of the ‘regulars’ that walked below me starting chatting about their own lives and troubles instead – I got quite a bit of gossip from that. Justin was struggling with his money – thinking about taking a second job or finding a cheaper place to rent. Kyle was having trouble with his girlfriend – they seemed to be long distance. Laura was on a diet – though she didn’t need to be- and hated it apparently – she’d already eaten too many carbs today according to her – though no one seemed to care based on their muttering.

At last the people began to thin out, fewer and fewer coming within hearing range, even fewer coming within my site. Maybe they were giving up for now? Or moving further down the river? Or changing shifts of workers? I was still worried that if I dropped down now I would be noticed by a straggler or maybe they weren’t actually gone, but just fallen a bit quiet for now. I needed to check though. I carefully turned myself around so that I lay on my stomach on the bar and spun so I could hold onto the bar and cautiously lower my head down so I could see further.

Shit. A pair of boots had come within sight and I abruptly pulled my head back up into the darkness of my hideout, stifling a gasp. I swung myself back so I was once again lying length ways across the bar and strained my ears for a sound of footsteps or a voice through the noise of the river lapping against the bank below.

Once my heart had calmed a bit from its racing pace and adjusted myself back to my original position so that I was sat upright, my legs stretched before me.

I’ll just leave it a bit longer, I thought, not having the courage to try that again anytime soon and resigning myself to another long wait.

I couldn’t keep track of the time in my little refuge and I’m sure it felt longer than it was – every minute dragging like an hour, every muscle stiff and uncomfortable.

Eventually I couldn’t take it anymore – I hadn’t heard a voice or seen anyone wander past the entire time, maybe it was time to try again. I began to swing myself back to my odd position when some movement my eye.

It was man. He was in clothing that suggested homeless – ragged jeans, many layers of clothing - each of varying degrees of filthy - under an oversized battered coat and an old, baggy beanie hat perched on a matted dirty blond hair. He made his way to the large bridge support and settled himself down – clearly seeking shelter out of the strong wind that I could see stirring the cold water.

I thought my options through. He was unlikely to be here if the search parties were still combing this area, could I risk this one guy seeing me? He might be helpful in getting me out of here unseen - who would he tell anyway? He probably hadn’t even heard of my recent demise, besides, few people in Gotham would probably believe him – most of the people on the streets around here were at least a little bit mad in one way or another – this meant that any homeless persons was condemned as mentally lacking and a story of a dead girl walking was not going to get him far.

Making up my mind I slipped my legs over the side, scowling when my aching muscles finally gained some relief from its uncomfortable position. I turned onto my stomach and shimmied my way over the ledge till I hung from my fingers. I let myself drop and I landed on my feet, staggering on the mud beneath me.

I turned to see the homeless man eyeing me in surprise. I gave him a friendly smile - which may have looked more like a grimace - and then glanced quickly both ways to check for anyone else that was in the immediate vicinity. I couldn’t see anyone. I turned so my back was to the man and jumped to grab hold of my rucksack that was still stowed away on another supporting bar. I pulled it down, catching it and knocking my still-damp clothes off at the same time, causing them to fall into a heap on the sandy floor. Great.

I scooped them up in an heap and stuffed them ungracefully into my bag before slinging the straps over my shoulder.

I took a large breath and approached the scruffy man who was still watching me, more intrigued now I didn’t seem to pose a threat. I could see now that he also had a unkempt beard that matched his messy hair. I gave him another small smile, “Excuse me sir, are there many people still around on the bridge?” I asked as politely as I could – killing with kindness – hoping he’d answer.

He didn’t answer straight away and seemed to be weighing up his own options. I began to wonder if he was one of the homeless that truly did have more than a few screws lose. I was really getting fed up with dealing with insane people. He continued to study me with a slightly squinted look, as if he wanted to ask me why I wanted to know. He seemed to think better of this – deciding he didn’t care what I was doing or why, and instead answered, “No ma’am, it’s prett’ dead up there. Mos’ at work I suppos’.”

I gave him a wide smile at his answer, “Thank you very much!” I dug around in my bag and found some of my cash, handing him a few notes, “I really appreciate it!” He took my money after a slight hesitation, and gave me a toothy smile as he watched me in slight awe as I threw my bag onto my back and made my way up the slope to the rest of the city.

I pulled my the hood of my jacket over my head - the overcast sky not making this too unusual - before coming into site of the road. I hoped that the change in my clothes would stop anyone recognising me and thinking that I could be anyone other than another general pedestrian - but I wasn’t taking the risk of showing my face too clearly just yet – just in case not everyone from earlier had moved away yet.

I still made sure to keep my head low, however, as I strode away quickly, melting into the few people still wandering the streets as I headed into the centre of office blocks and skyscrapers – this time on the opposite side of the river to the way I had come.

I made sure not to look at anyone and keep my eyes on the floor, pulling my hood as far over my face as I could and only looking up when the I noticed the immediate area was empty of anyone. After walking for at least 30 minutes in no particular direction - attempting to be as unpredictable as possible by taking random turns at cross roads and T-junctions – I finally decided to stop.

I was stood in the middle of a long empty street. The buildings on either side were tall glass office buildings and anyone usually found here was sat at their desks in their offices above me. Cars continued to pass me, but too concerned to on where they were going to care about me.

I hailed a taxi. It was time to leave Gotham. Start anew.

No one would find me, no one would come searching. I was dead.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The Joker looked down at his hands. Bloody. He liked them that way. It accented his tattoos and his white skin. Others seemed to find it off putting and he wondered why as he pulled his white gloves back over his hands to hide the stains. He wanted to avoid any unnecessary time wasting.

The blood belonged to numerous people, all Penguin’s men, and some of it Penguin’s. He didn’t regret anything. The bird brain had it coming to him.

He was now sat in the back of one of Penguin’s cars being driven to the bridge. He hadn’t asked for the car – just slipped into the back seat and told the man to drive. The foolish boy had been about to protest, but didn’t think twice when he had looked in the rear view mirror and seen the green hair and red grin. You just didn’t say no. The blood had convinced him even more.

Frost had then slid into the front passenger seat, not questioning their destination, what had happened in the meeting, or the blood stains on his boss. He just sat quietly, his gun folded with his arms on his lap, monitoring the driver discretely out the corner of his eye whilst facing the city flying past the window.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Penguin sat at in one of the booths of his empty club, an ice pack resting on his collar bone against neck in an attempt to ease the angry red marks left by the insane clown. One hand continued to adjust the pack as it slipped down, the other nursed a strong drink – the only pain killer he would take.

He tossed the rest down of his drink down his throat and gestured for one of his men to refill it. There weren’t many left now that could stand thanks to the Joker - most were now recuperating in the staff rooms, hospitalised, or taken to the morgue.

The meeting hadn’t exactly gone to plan. That was an understatement. The Penguin hadn’t had the fun teasing session he had wanted – having seriously underestimated the Joker’s commitment to the girl and his lack of humour on the subject. Instead he had been interrogated whilst being throttled by the lunatic, only escaping with his life because the commotion had caused one of Penguin’s henchmen to interrupt. This had promptly led to the Joker sending a single bullet into his head and had, of course, summoned the rest of Penguin’s men to the small office, sending the whole club into chaos as the armed goons swarm upon them.

Most of hadn’t survived – especially the first wave. The Joker shot most of them, but soon became bored of this, instead opting to throw his gun away and instead had beaten and bloodied them to death, or - for an unlucky few – had left them within an inch of their life so that they lay cradling broken limbs or staunching large wounds as they their life slowly embed away.

How sadistic, thought the Penguin, throwing back yet another drink and relishing the burn in his throat and the warming of his chest as the alcohol worked its way into his system. Soon after having tortured his way out of the office, the Joker had made his way out of the club - not leaving anyone in his way standing. He had then stepped out onto the street and into a one of Penguins’ cars before he had sped off.

“Good riddance…” muttered the Penguin under his breath, scowling to himself. He didn’t care where the Joker had gone and didn’t mind losing the car if it got rid of the crazy fool.

He was almost glad [Y/N] was dead; the poor girl didn’t deserve to have that psycho clown in her life.

The Penguin had no doubt what had caused the poor child to kill herself now. It must clearly have been a combination of their binding contract – and all it entailed -, as well as the Joker’s unrelenting attention.

It was a good thing then, he supposed, sipping contently at his newly refilled glass, that he had never told her their contract was now void.


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes! Another Part! Don’t hold out hope that they will always be coming out this quick - it’s only because I am suppose to be doing revision, but this is far more fun!  
> Hope you guys enjoy!

The car hadn’t even stopped on the bridge before the Joker had open the door and stepped out onto the road. He wasn’t in the mood for time wasting. Cars behind blasted their horns but he ignored them and they soon silenced when they recognised him. Frost soon followed on behind.  
He made his way through the lunch time rush of pedestrians, the people parting before him when they got a look at him. The smarter ones immediately turned tail and strode away, some even running – not wanting to be anywhere near him or what he was going to do. A fewer more stupider individuals stepped to the side by remained to gasp and point, watching in awe as he stomped past them. He’d usually stop and give them a show – making them regret any gestures at him when they soon lost their precious fingers, and shutting their pathetic mouths with pistol. But he didn’t -you needed to be in the mood for these sorts of things. And for once he wasn’t.  
A group of office works chatted in front of him, meandering along the bridge as they enjoyed their lunch hour. He pulled his gun out and growled at them, swinging the weapon around his finger. They turned at the noise, he noticed their eyes widen at the gun that spun around, a few of the women letting out screams and they all fled in various directions, pushing each other aside in their hurry. Usually he found this vaguely entertaining, but his temper remained – the turmoil he caused at Penguin’s club not enough to alleviate it.  
When he reached the centre of the bridge he swung himself up onto the stone barrier without hesitation, hung his arms out to both sides and let himself fall into a dive as he plummeted into the depths of the river below, leaving Frost stood on the bridge watching the dark water in confusion.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I had wanted to put my plan into action as soon as I had thought of it – not wanting to wait around for Penguin to make my life any more miserable, or for the Joker to remerge and start his games again before he finely killed me.  
This meant however that I didn’t have that much time to arrange things. I had managed to arrange everything for my grand disappearing act off the bridge, but my life from there onwards was less clear to me.  
I had known that I couldn’t stay in Gotham - not even a city or two away. I didn’t even settle with the same state. I had been travelling for the last month between several cities and towns - never staying more than a few nights, always paying in cash - just in case anyone somehow came looking for me, or tried to tract my bank account.  
I wasn’t poor. The money Penguin paid me hadn’t gone to much other than groceries – me not having much of a social life – so I had a nice cushion to fall back on now. Even so, there was a limit and I knew I needed a more permanent location for me to settle in and start my new life.  
Which is how I found myself here.  
It was a small town surrounded by cattle farm after cattle farm. The population of inhabitants was quite small – the cows almost outnumbering them. It was perfect really. I managed to rent myself a small farmhouse on one of the ranches and got myself a temporary job at one of the cosy pubs in the central market square – finally earning myself funds for my dwindling finances.  
Life was going well. But it sort of wrong. Like I was on a really long holiday and I would one day have to return home and pick up my normal life. I felt constantly uneasy - like I was waiting on the edge for something to happen to change the life I had made.  
I tried to distract myself by focusing on being more social. Up to this point I had been mainly alone – the only person I truly interacted with being the Farmer who rented my house to me – even that was only a wave and a good morning as he drove past my front door in the morning.  
So I began to try to make some friends at the pub. It seemed to pay off. I became quite friendly with a few of the other waitresses/bartenders that worked alongside me, often going out for ‘girls night’ or getting lunch together. Still though, the empty feeling and restlessness soon returned when I was left to my own devices.  
When I eventually felt like I could confide in my new girlfriends, I attempted to broach the subject. Despite their comforting words on the subject I felt like they couldn’t fathom my situation – and there was no way I could tell my true story. My suspicions of their understanding was confirmed when their solution was to point out ‘cute’ guys around the bar, and hook me up with their own boyfriend’s best friends. It didn’t appeal to me. I had considered the dating game as a possible remedy but no one appealed to me in this small town. Plus, just thinking about dating sent a familiar green haired man through my mind. I didn’t like to think about him.  
If I began to think about him – even just his sweatpants - I immediately shut my mind down and thought about something else. I didn’t need that turmoil in my head.  
There had been several incidences during my stay here thanks to my past. I had soon found out that the surrounding countryside was a prime spot for hunting – something I didn’t learn until I had heard gun shots ringing out through the streets and I had been the only one to dive for cover. I earned some funny looks for that.  
This also meant that this time of year there was many large groups of intimidating men discussing weapons and choice shots. I couldn’t help but constantly keep an ear out for a familiar name – it reminded me all too much of the meetings I would attend with Penguin, where the goons would hunch around bragging about who had almost managed to land a shot on the Batman. The first time I heard a laugh like his I swear my heart stopped and I practically jumped 2 foot in the air, before instinctively hiding behind the nearest pillar in the room.  
I was being ludicrous. I was dead to him – if he actually cared. Chances were we didn’t even know because he didn’t care enough to find it out. There was no chance he knew I was alive and no chance he would track me down. But what I found worse than my stupid reactions was that – every time he wasn’t actually here – I felt my heart drop.  
It was absurd. But I was getting better, slowly.  
That was until one late Sunday afternoon when I was clearing the pub up after the usual lunchtime rush, before the dinner shift started. There weren’t many people around – a few sat in the bar area, but known left in the main dining section – as I made my way around the old wooden tables, wiping them down with a grimy dishcloth and some disinfectant. As I rearranged the rag to a cleaner piece of material for the next bench, I noticed a newspaper folded on top of one of the stools at the next bench.  
I picked it up without a second thought - thinking of causally flicking through it as I didn’t keep up on the news much, apart from the local gossip. I far preferred the quiet ignorant life I had adopted.  
I read the name of the paper and dropped it instantly as though it had burnt me.  
It was the Gotham Gazette – and a recent edition at that.  
It’s going in the bin! I told myself firmly. I didn’t need to know anything that was happening in that city.  
I bent down to gingerly pick it back up - as though afraid it might bite me - and folded it back in half to its original state. That when the headline caught my eye. “Continued Clown Chaos” it read. My intrigue got the better of me – despite my common sense telling me to drop it and run - and I unfolded it once again to take in the front page.  
The large photo captivated me. It was him, in all his glory. The Joker was crouched in the bed of a pickup truck, an assault rifle gripped in one hand, a revolver in other and he appeared to be firing into the street. The photographer had clearly risked his life to get this picture, but it had clearly paid off, managing to secure the shot of the clown racing away from the scene – mostly likely trying to avoid the Batman. I bet anything Frost was at the wheel and I caught myself smiling slightly to myself as I thought about how annoyed he would be that the Joker wasn’t holding on in any way in the back of the truck – meaning one wrong turn of Frost’s would send the insane man flying. And of course Frost would be to blamed. I smirked, resisting the urge to chuckle at the image of Frost cursing as he stirred the speeding truck as carefully as he could.  
My eyes roamed over the picture and I felt my smirk fade from my lips as my gaze landed on his face. There he was. I couldn’t lie to myself. I missed him. My memories had been fading in my attempt to not think about him, but to see him again was like a fresh coat of paint over my mind’s eye.  
I studied the image in front of me, drinking in every last detail – I felt like an addict getting a hit after a long painful withdrawal - God knows if I’d ever see him again. I couldn’t. I knew that. I shouldn’t be looking at this. But though my head argued my eyes remained glued on the photo.  
His purple coat was flying out in front of him, partially hiding his dark shirt beneath and the gold chains that hung around his neck. His hair was dishevelled and strands stuck out where the image had frozen them as the air rushed past. The newspaper didn’t do the colours justice, but I could see where the light of the day caught a few of the strands making them an even brighter green.  
A deep blood red grin stretched across his face, his metallic tipped teeth just noticeable between his lips.  
But it didn’t look right. It sat wrong on his face, his usual creases and slight dimples not indenting his bleached skin. This wasn’t a smile. There was no jesting there. It was a terrifying rictus. It spelt out exactly how he wanted to see the world burn and suffer. His eyes were the same - the blue not the light, carefree brightness I remembered, but instead it was dark and stormy, mostly hidden in the shadow of his brow. There was no humour there, no true enjoyment of what he was doing. It was all forced.  
Ok now I’m just being stupid! It’s just the lighting! I’m reading far too much into a bloody picture! I told myself sternly and tore my eyes away from his.  
I turned my attention to the columns of black and white text. “Weeks after plunging himself into Gotham River from the South Bridge in a suspected suicide attempt, -  
What?! Suicide attempt?! The Joker?! From the same bridge?! What was I reading?! That can’t be true!  
\- the criminal known as The Joker had continued his rampage on the city of Gotham.  
Having already hit 13 other locations throughout the city including City Hall, Gotham National Bank, S.T.A.R Labs, The Gotham University Library and The Purple Umbrella – a club owned by well-known criminal business man Oswald Cobblepot (aka the Penguin).  
Today marks yet another attack in the series that began just over a month ago. This time the main target appeared to be the Riverfront Centre in Old Gotham. Several are known to have been killed at the scene and many have since been transported to the nearest hospital to treat for severe injuries. The police are still unclear as to the motive behind the attacks and have so far not managed to find any links between the buildings struck by The Joker.  
“We are looking into any possible connections between the incidences.” Answered Commissioner Gordon of the GCPD when questioned, “We also hope to identify some clues as to the location of so-called The Joker so we may apprehended him before any more damage befalls the city and its inhabitants.”  
“This is a compl-“  
“[Y/N]?” A hand landed on my shoulder making me jump, a quickly fold up the paper and hide behind my body as I spun around to face Hannah. I gave her a breathless smile in greeting. “Geez, sorry! Didn’t mean to make you jump,” she apologise quickly, “What ya’ got there?” she asked gesturing behind me where I gripped the newspaper partially concealed.  
“Oh.” I said, reluctantly bringing the newspaper back into clear view, “Just a newspaper someone left behind.” I said, trying to sound as breezy as possible as I handed it to her. I could feel my chest still pounding from her sudden appearance, but I also knew it was partially from the shame of being so engrossed in the ex-Arkham resident on the front page that I hadn’t even heard her approach. Could she tell?  
“Oh?” She questioned taking the paper from me and leafing through it, completely ignoring the headline. She pause part way through, seeing the name of the paper, “Gotham Gazette? Gotham’s a bit far from here in’it?”  
I nodded, “Must have just been a traveller passing through.” I said lightly, acting as if I didn’t care in the slightest. She then closed the paper and noticed the front. Shit.  
“Oh my God!” She cried reading through article. “I heard of this mad man – The Joker. Yeah, definitely looks like a bit of a clown!” She guffawed, “Gotta be mad to have all that makeup on!” She added as her eyes flicked over the picture.  
“Most of it’s not makeup.” I pointed out without even thinking about it. It was the way she said it though. I just had the urge to defend him – not that he needed it – but it wasn’t really his fault he looked like that and the comment stung me for some reason. She looked up from the article at me, puzzlement etched on her face.  
“Whattya mean?” She asked and I could see the light in her eye brightened, the same way it did when she sensed gossip.  
“I mean… he uh…” I gulped, mortified by how tongue tied I had gotten over it and I couldn’t help the heat that was rushing to my cheeks, “I- um - I heard he fell in chemicals at some point – or something like that. That’s why he looks like that. I think.” I finished lamely gesturing at the paper in her hand and the large photograph.  
She raised an eyebrow at me, “How do ya know that?” she grilled me.  
“Well - um - I’ve been – I mean I - I used to – uh – I use to live in Gotham.” I managed to stutter out in my embarrassment.  
“Oh dear! I didn’t know honey! Oh my God imagine living in that city! All that crime! I’ve heard terrible things – gangs and guns round every corner, drugs handed out like sweets! Gosh every other person you meet must be a criminal!” She looked at me with such pity and sadness I almost got angry at her. How dare she talk about my city like that! It wasn’t that bad when you learnt how to live there! …Well maybe not right now… I thought thinking back to the article I just read and the rampage the Joker seemed to be on.  
“I mean imagine a city full of these crazy people!” She exclaimed shaking the newspaper, “These people need to be locked up in padded cells, not running around waving guns and explosives throughout a city!”  
“Well it’s not like they haven’t tried.” I muttered to myself as she gestured at the photo as proof. My eyes followed her hand and once again gaze fell on the pistol the joker held. I blinked a few times, looked away and then back. No. I wasn’t going crazy. He had my gun. The one he had given me. I hadn’t noticed initially, but now I saw it – the slight purple accents could have meant it was one of his easily, but now I could just make out the word ‘Voice’ on the barrel and if I really tried the blur of black on the cylinder could form ‘deadly’. That was my revolver – the one I had lost into the river. Where did he get it? Was it from his ‘suicide attempt’?  
“I mean, how messed up must someone life be to end up like that though?! I mean sure, fall in some chemicals and end up looking like a demented clown! But why then decide the best thing to do is to go on a riot through the streets with a machine gun?!” Hannah continued, questioning wildly, oblivious to my sudden realisation and looking at me for mutual agreement and outrage.  
I wasn’t going to agree. She didn’t know him. Sure he was a psychotic lunatic and a murderer but she didn’t know anything about him. She acted like no one had stopped him before, like no one had locked him in a cell and tortured him. He was a bad person, sure, but he wasn’t the only one - and he certainly wasn’t the only one to blame for what he was now. Her narrow mindedness didn’t allow her to see any more than the killer before her on the front page.  
“I try not to judge.” I snapped, snatching the newspaper back from her and heading to the back room of the pub. I stripped off my apron, gathered my stuff and headed out the door - I was taking the rest of the day off.  
As I made my way back to the ranch, I couldn’t help but think it was a good thing I had lost my gun.


	25. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello - next parts ready (I think) I apologise if the ending is rushed but I’m exhausted but really wanted to get it out!
> 
> I apologise for any continuity errors - I finding it hard to keep track between all my pieces!
> 
> Cursing myself for my lack of imagination in describing thoughts and feelings - but I hope to improve on this over time!
> 
> Also - new discovery - writing in past tense for a prolonged period of time is actually quite hard for me (so sorry for any tense mistakes!)
> 
> Hope you enjoy! :) Please leave feedback if you would like - I love to hear from you guys!

I stormed most of the way back to my house, burning my anger off through my powerful strides until my legs burned. By the time I reached my front door my rage had been replaced with an overwhelming feeling of shame and disgrace at my behaviour.

I threw myself down on my front step so that I sat on the door mat outside. My feet rested on the step below so my knees were at the right height for me to rest my forehead on them, closing my eyes and giving myself over to my mortification of my actions.

What had I just done?! I was ruined! There was no way that I had not come across as insane – I’d defend a mass murdering lunatic for goodness sake! I had been doing so well in this town - in my new life - and now he had to come and ruin it! And it wasn’t even him! It was just a bloody picture and a few words.  
And Hannah. Oh my God. I’d been so rude, so defensive! It must be obvious I had feelings towards the Joker! I thought in despair – she was going to think I was as crazy as him. 

My temper was flaring again - but this time aimed at me – and I stood up abruptly, irritably searching through my handbag, letting out growls or frustration when they didn’t show themselves obviously and mumbling hate and obscenities to myself, “Why did I have to bloody ruining everything?” I shoved my hand into pockets and compartments of the bag, “Why can’t I be normal?” I finally found them and thrust them roughly into the lock, “Why couldn’t I just fall for Timid Tim next door or Frankie’s ex?” I stomped through the doorway flinging my keys on the nearest surface. “But nooooo,” I sighed loudly to myself, gesturing wildly as I made my way down the hallway, trying to work out some of my frustration. “I just have to keep that psychotic clown in my head instead!” 

But, as I walked into the kitchen and threw my bag on the counter, a part of me couldn’t help but think that maybe I had sought this out. Maybe this was my solution to my boring, lonely country life – mix it up by revealing I was in love with a murderous lunatic – that’ll spice things up! I rolled my eyes at myself.

Hell, I was becoming a psycho too! I had wanted to kill Hannah for goodness sake! I couldn’t even begin to fathom it now, but I could remember the fervour that rushed through me and, given the right opportunity, I didn’t doubt that I may well have ended her life right then and there. Disregarding the fact that she was a good person, a nice person, and a friend. Disregarding the fact that we were in the middle of a public pub which still contained lunch stragglers and early evening drinkers.

I still felt like I would have done it.

The thought made tears burn in my eyes and my throat close up. What was I becoming? How could I want to do something like that? Could I trust myself anymore? How could I exist around other people if I was going to get weird urges to kill people over small squabbles and disagreements?

Because that’s all it had been. She hadn’t insulted me, threatened me or done anything to me. She had expressed her opinion, one shared by nearly everyone else in the world and I had nearly killed her.  
How was I supposed to exist in this world now? What was wrong with me?

Had Gotham rubbed off on me like it did to every criminal? Had the Joker rubbed off on me?  
He sparked a weird passion in me that didn’t seem to stop at just romance - everything I now did was bolder, braver, more insane.

What had changed in me? This wasn’t me.  
I was the shy nervous girl that could barely get myself onto a stage and was too shy to look anywhere but at her feet.  
I was the girl who had run a club from behind closed doors, getting others to be the front people whilst I handled things behind the scenes.  
I was the girl that hadn’t stood up for my club. The girl that had run tail between her legs to an old friend for shelter and then practically fallen on her knees to beg a criminal for protection and a job, only to sign her life away to the madman.  
The girl who had naively and inanely fallen for a deranged psychopath that liked to dress as a clown and shoot people for fun.

When had I changed?  
I could ask myself the question in disbelief and confusion, but I knew the answer. The minute the joker had stepped foot in my club and demanded it be his I had changed. He somehow brought it out of me.  
It hadn’t happened over night, but now that I looked back it was clear that the more time I had spent with him, the more ridiculous my actions became.

I looked out my kitchen window into my small garden and the fields beyond. I could spot a few cows on the horizon but other than that the land was empty, as if the world itself was empty and I was all alone. The only person left.

I had felt like this before. When my Father had died just under a year ago. He was my last remaining member of my close family – having already lost my mum when I was younger and having no siblings. The rest of my family had never showed much interest in us so we returned mutual effort.  
When he passed I had no one really. I was alone. At the time I had been travelling – doing the usual young adult thing of trying to find my place in the world – but Gotham had always been my home. I hadn’t bothered to make close friends on my journeys – never staying in one place long enough - and the ones I had left in Gotham had moved on, neither side bothering to keep in touch. Life was like that.  
But I had found myself without a safe place anymore. My dad had always been there should I need him - a financial rock, an emotional rock, a base should I fall. Now I felt isolated in the world and floating without any idea where I was going.

I moved through the small house, climbing the stairs to my bedroom. I climbed out of my uniform and tossed it into my growing pile of washing before wrapping myself in my dressing gown and heading to the bathroom. As I passed my dresser, I caught sight of the one thing, over than the necessary, which I had brought with me from the flat at Penguin’s club. It was a picture of my club in its prime before the Joker had turned up.  
I picked the frame up now and studied the picture, reminiscing in the details and the memories.

A lifeline had arrived for me in the form of the club. It was the one thing waiting for me back in Gotham, the one true memory of my family. My father had run the club and, upon his passing, it was handed down to me to do as I wished with it – run it, change it, sell it.  
The club had been in my family for generations in one way or another, always adapting to the times, but keeping a tradition alive. We had survived so much throughout the years and I had grown up in that place - my childhood filled each room from the time I first learnt to walk by holding onto the stage to the time I had my first drink out of the coloured bottles that lined the bar. I couldn't see it leave the family because of me and my wanderings – anyway I had yet to find anything in the world that held me away from Gotham and the club. 

So after the funeral I accepted the keys and had taken my place in my Father’s office in his chair behind his desk. Most of the staff that had worked with my Father took the chance to retire or go part time, but they had helped me to look for replacements, called in on me and helped me get to grips with the place.  
My dad hadn't updated the place in a while and it was behind the times – possibly why our patrons at the time were generally older than me. Once I had got the books in order I had refurbishment the place, keeping a few things the same, but giving the club new life through sprucing it up with new decor, new entertainment, new bartenders and new connections. 

And it thrived.

I smiled at the memories and replaced the photo. I walked down the hall to the bathroom and ran the shower till it was warm enough to step in. The water pressure wasn’t great, but it gave me an excuse to have a long shower.  
Trying to push the thoughts of the afternoon out of my mind I began to sing a familiar tune and I fell back into recollections of an easier time.

I had different way of running the club to most, having always been a reserved person. Instead of actively being the boss I would hide out in office, preferring the call or emails and accounts. I only ventured out into the main in opening hours to blend with the crowd and observe how things ran and make notes about alterations for improvement.  
But, contrary to this, I had always held a certain passion for singing. When I was really young, and more carefree, I would climb onto the stage, instruct a nearby adult to retrieve the microphone from the stand – which was too high for me to reach - and then sing my little heart out to my favourite pop hits as my mum clapped along in the empty seating area and, when I was done, my dad would applause from his office.  
As I got older my nerves soon kicked in and I no longer felt that I was good enough to be on the stage, having watched many beautiful and talented singers own it so well. My dad would encourage me continuously – always hinting there was a spot should I want it, but I had kept my singing for the shower alone.

It was only when my Father had gone and I owned the club that I had returned to the stage. It was the anniversary of me taking over the club. All of the staff had remained behind to throw a wild night for me and celebrate a very successful year with far too much alcohol. It was late into the evening when the cheesy tunes started on the speakers and karaoke had soon taken over. After a large amount of chanting, shots and begs I was convinced to step back onto the stage when the senior bartender Jerry told me it would be what my dad had wanted.  
Those words had caused a lump of emotion to form in my throat but there was still no way I could have done it without the alcohol in my veins. I had gone up there and sung my heart out in memory of my father – the dancing coming solely from the drugs in my system. 

One drunken karaoke later and people had seemed to love me. They had somehow managed to convince me to give myself one try in front of a real audience and, much to my complete and utter disbelief I was soon put on as a regular entertainer.

From then on all had gone well for a few months.  
Then the joker turned up at the door.

I stepped out of the shower and towelled off before moving back to my room and throwing on my comfort clothes – jogging bottoms and a hoody. I threw my damp hair into a messy bun and headed back to my kitchen to get a hot drink and dig through my freezer for some dinner.

I watched the kettle boil and returned to my shower thoughts.

I had known who The Joker was of course. There wasn’t a single person in Gotham who didn’t – you couldn’t survive without at least knowing the major criminals to look out for. But I’d never had the displeasure of meeting him before then - as most of his ‘business was generally on the other side of Gotham - whilst my club had been located on the border between Two-face’s and the Penguin’s territory. Not that it had been unknown for him to visit others.  
But still, to find him walking into my club one evening whilst I was performing had been quite a shock to me, which that then quickly given way to fear and dread.  
I recalled trying to concentrate on finishing my song without missing any beats. I had already figured out why he was there. I remembered fearing it for a while, having been warned several times that my success would be my downfall. But, though I had heeded those warnings, I had always put off dealing with them - always comforting myself that those days were still a long way away.

His sudden appearance had caught me off guard at the time, forcing me to think on my feet. I had, stupidly – though some may class it as bravery - approached him. I had been forced to battle with Frost before I had finally managed to get close to the renowned criminal and attempt to address him; however I didn’t even get a glance from the Joker. He had simply continued to walk through the club and I remember thinking he was examining each part to see if it was to his taste.

My – now famous – temper had flared at that point, and I had almost done something I knew now I would have regretted, when he had abruptly stopped next to a booth. It was the booth he would then on occupy whenever he was in the club.  
I reminisced how he had slid into it, draping himself across the bench - making himself at home - before he had finally turned his gaze on me.

Even now I could remember how his clear blue eyes had pierced me and made my heart jump as if I’d been suddenly dropped from a great height. I had found it difficult to collect my thoughts so hadn’t been able to say anything before The Joker spoke up, and his words had brought me back to Earth. “Fetch me the boss, Dollface.” I recall him commanding as if he was ordering a drink from a waitress.

That had done it for me. It had confirmed what I had known - that he had been there for my club. I had also known that I couldn’t do anything about, couldn’t even have called for help. I also knew I had needed to survive if I was going to help my staff get through it. That meant I couldn’t have given myself over.

I guess I had a dark side even then - heck maybe he had brought it out of me in that very moment – because I recollect then walking to the bar where the local jackass Trevor Harris had been sat at the bar.

Everyone in the club had known Trevor. He had been a well-known player, often hitting on at least half the girls each night, having always gone home with at least one. He had also been a small town criminal, having been charged for a number of small crimes, and he was an all-round rude, egotistic misogynist.

I remember telling him that I needed him to do something for me before I had then quickly gathered my staff to explain what was going on. I had tried to be as vague as possible but I also tried to provide them the necessary reassurance to prevent too many worries.

I had then gone back to Trevor and flirted with him enough to think he had got me. I then managed to convince him to pretend to be the boss for the night – as a weird kinky role play he thought I was into.  
I vividly remember leading him to the Joker, like an obnoxious lamb to slaughter, Trevor playing his role perfectly. I had barely flinched when he was shot. 

The kettle pinged, making me jump and I gripped my chest, feeling my erratic heartbeat. “Jesus.” I breathed and then giggled quietly in relief.  
I made myself some tea and found a frozen lasagne which I unceremoniously dumped on a plate and shoved in the microwave, watching the plate spin under the artificial light.

After the Joker had officially taken over I just became another member of staff. No one really knew me as the owner of club because I always got other people to do things for me so I didn’t have any awkward questions about why roles had changed, and anyone about to ask understood when the Joker walked in. That hurt a bit. The fact that I never even tried to stand up for my club.

I spent most of my time working on stage or trying to make other people’s lives less miserable under the Joker’s reign. It hadn’t been easy for me, I had hated blending into the background as the Joker changed my club, terrorised my staff and welcomed criminals and low life's in the place of my regular patrons.  
But that’s also why I had stayed. I couldn't stand to see my family's business ruined.  
Until I snapped. It became too much for me - to watch my team slowly fall apart and for them to constantly live in fear that any wrong move would cost their lives.  
So then I had destroyed the whole thing out of shame.

 

Now I looked at it the feelings were returning to me. I was a failure. I had let generations of my family down. I had destroyed the one part of my true family I had left. My childhood was gone. My parents were gone. I truly had nothing.

I was brought back to the present with the feeling of warm tears rolling down my cheeks and the beeping of the microwave in front of me.

 

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

In the end I had eaten a few bites my dinner but my depression had overwhelmed me and I had fallen asleep on the sofa watching my favourite soap opera.

I went to work the next day, after debating back and forth all morning. I knew I would be working my midday shift with Hannah and, though I dreaded talking to her, but I also knew I needed to confront her at some point.  
When I entered the pub at 11am I noticed nodded to Hannah in greeting who was already heading behind the bar. She looked at me wearily and gave a slight nod in return, following behind as we both headed to the back room.  
I walked to my locker and put away my bag pulling out my apron and hanging it over my head. I turned to her as I tied it behind my back, "Hey Hannah, look I'm sorry about yesterday.” I apologised, trying to avoid looking her in the face. “My past is weird for me,” I admitted truthfully, “so can we just leave it in the past and not talk about it?”  
I could see the inner gossip in her dying to know what I clearly wasn’t telling her, but with all due respect to her she fought it down.  
“Sure” she eventually agreed, before giving me a small tentative smile which I returned with warm gratitude and after that we pretty much returned tomorrow. Like my recent bout of insanity never occurred.

The next few days were almost normal. It felt like I had returned to my new, simple, ordinary life and I was grateful. I had heard no more information about the Joker because I stayed away from newspapers and News Channels and I could almost pretend the other day never happened. Almost.

It was a week after the newspaper incident when I found my past haunting me once again. I was on the evening shift, the pub was packed - mainly of large country men either with beer bellies or large muscular frames – the main room hot and smelling of tobacco and smoke. I was on my feet continuously serving drinks or making them and swerving round tipsy customers as I manoeuvred through the crowd.  
As I served a table a round of drinks, handing each out from a tray balanced on my left hand, I felt someone slid past me, brushing against my back as they slid into the chair opposite someone on the table behind.  
“Aren't you that guy that works for that guy, The Joker?” Asked the man who had just sat down in a slightly hushed voice. I could feel my ears literally prick up at his name. 

"Use to." Came the answer and I felt myself freeze in my action of grabbing another drink from the tray and my eyes widen at the familiarity of the voice. "Not anymore." Stated Frost.


	26. Chapter 26

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys - next parts out!
> 
> I’m a little bit worried about writing bits with Frost in because I feel like I don’t really know the character - so I hope its alright!
> 
> (Can you tell I’m putting off any real conversation? hahaha I am really worried about writing it because I think’ll it’ll be hard to not mess it up - so it might take a while to get the next bit out!)
> 
> Hope you enjoy it! Feel free to leave me any comments on it you have - thank you very much to all those that are sticking with me! I really appreciate the support! :D

I didn’t know what to do and probably stood there frozen far too long. The group in front of me, whom I was supposed to be serving, were beginning to look at me oddly - as though I had forgotten how to function.  
I quickly apologised and served the final drinks before moving to an empty table just to the side of me, still within hearing distance. I strained my ears to hear what was going on as I pretend to wipe the table top with a cloth and spray that I had tucked into my apron.  
The stranger had asked why Frost wasn’t with the Joker anymore. I expected the larger man to go on the defensive and tell him it was none of his business and to butt out, but tonight Frost seemed to be in the mood to talk – maybe he had consumed one too many drinks.  
“He’s just gone insane.” I heard him state. The man opposite must have looked at him funny because Frost tried to reiterate, “Look, I know the guy is insane – that’s his thing and all - but it’s become even worse.” Clearly the guy still didn’t believe him because he carried on, “I mean he’s completely deranged now. There is no more genius behind the plans anymore – it’s all poorly thought through suicide missions.  
There’s no sit down and thought processes behind them - it’s just blow up a wall in a bank and pray the cops are on the other side of Gotham!” cried Frost a bit too loudly, and I flinched - geez maybe he was quite drunk. Even if you had just left your life with as criminal, you still didn’t just shout about it.  
Not that I blamed him for hitting the drink this hard. If I had just abandoned the clown prince I would need at least a couple strong drinks to get me through - plus a few more to calm the nerves abut that fact that he might come after me for abandoning him. I had nothing but sympathy for the Joker’s ex-bodyguard right now.   
“Any fun that I use to find in it left a while a go – we were always cutting it too close.” Frost continued, calming down a bit so that his volume returned to a normal level, but still making the most of finally being able to talk about something that had clearly been bugging him for a while.  
“The man’s getting worse as well.” He exclaimed, “He now purposefully walks into a room to die - it’s some strange miracle that he hasn't yet. Don’t get me wrong,” he said honestly, “he’s always played with his life - but he knew the odds - now he ensures they are stacked against him.”

I listened to all this as I scrubbed the table, my back to him so he couldn’t accidentally see my face. I soon realised I’d been there too long, and I couldn’t justify hanging around with the pub this busy, all staff run off their feet.  
Instead, I reluctantly headed back to the bar, forcing myself to stay facing forward and not look back for even a glimpse of Frost – I couldn’t risk it. Instead I danced around the tables; trying to ensure that the least amount of my face would be visible, should he glance my way. Yes, it may be true that he no longer worked for the Joker, but I still didn’t want him to recognise me – who knew who he’d tell and who it would get back to.  
Once at the bar I tried to ensure that I made any drinks with my back to his general direction as well, turning only briefly to place them in front of the customers on the bar stools.  
I caught a glimpse of the guy across from Frost stand up, shake hands with the Joker’s bodyguard and then turn and leave. I was just about to move onto the next round of drink orders when I saw the ex-right-hand-man stand up from his table and make his way in my direction. Shit.  
Without thinking I instantly dropped down behind the bar, pretending to tidy the shelves below for far longer than I needed to. I paused for a moment, knowing I had orders I was supposed to making. I could do that down here right? I took my time choosing glasses and filling them with ice cubes, before lifting them up to blindly place them on the counter top without moving from my hidden position.  
Then I paused. What was I going to do now?! I remained crouched there desperately thinking to myself how I was going to check where he’d gone without him seeing me - and how I was going to continue working if he was going to hang around all night?!

My eye then caught movement to my left and my neck snapped round to see Frankie, another waitress/bartender friend, walk behind the bar and abruptly stopped in surprise when she noticed me squatting amongst the glasses and ice boxes. She crinkled her eyebrows in silent confusion at me and I shot her a pleading look in response, putting my finger to my lips. She gave me the smallest nod in acknowledgement and I sighed in relief as she returned to her task. She may question my sanity, but she was willing to ignore it for now.  
I was – however - still stuck behind on my knees behind the bar.  
Maybe I could just stay here for the rest of the evening – I could try to convince Frankie to run the drinks for me if I could manage to make them. Or I could try to ask her if to play spy for me and let me know where he was – but then that might require an explanation as to why.  
As I debated in my head and wavered between my different options I suddenly felt a tap on my head. I look up instinctively to see Frost peering at me over the top of the bar.   
Shit.  
I immediately dropped my head back down - nearly overbalancing in the process and causing a few bottles to wobble, precariously close to falling. I silently prayed that I had been fast enough so he hadn’t seen my face properly – though even I knew that was a hopeless ask. Maybe he’d think he was going insane – what with me supposedly dead and all.  
I felt the same tap again. “Uh- err, can I help you, sir?” I asked, trying to alter the tone of my voice slightly as I kept my eyes on the sticky lino flooring and pretended to be messing with the glasses on the shelves in front of me.  
“I need to have a chat with you.” Frost’s voice came from above me. “Miss [L/N].” He added, and I could hear humour in his voice.  
Damn.  
I hung my head in defeat and slowly rose to my feet, keeping my head down until I was stood upright. He had been leant against the bar and now straightened up as I finally looked him fully in the face. It was like looking at the first friendly face in weeks - like even the friends I now had were strangers to me compared to the man before me. He was the only piece of Gotham I really had and looking at him almost felt like my life was back to normal and I was in the city I loved again.

“I don't believe it.” He breathed and I could feel myself blush with the shame of my situation. From this distance I could smell the alcohol on his breath, and for the first time I saw real emotion, not just the reactionless mask he usually wore. I could see the surprise clearly in his eyes and, what that, relief? Must be the drink. “I thought it was you when I watched you walk away from my table…” he murmured, “But I honestly didn’t believe it.”  
“How did you see me?” I asked, ignoring his muttering.  
He blinked a few times - as if stupefied that I could speak - before he shook his head slightly and seemed to gain back control over himself again – any emotions wiped from his face – back to how I usually knew him. “You don't get to my level of this sort of job without noticing things.” He pointed out, a smirk playing on his lips, “Like your friend’s not-so-subtle way of agreeing to keep your hiding place.”  
Damn. “So no spy career in my future?” I asked jokingly – not knowing what else to say in that moment.  
“I highly recommend avoiding thievery as well.” He informed me, with humour in his eyes and I chuckled – the first genuine laugh I’d had since I’d started my new life.  
My laughter died down and a silence fell between us, but it was almost comfortable and my smile remained on my face as I looked at him. I let out a deep sigh at him. “It’s actually really good to see you.” I admitted taking him in.  
He looked the almost the same as usual with his neatly trimmed facial hair, dark suit and matching tie. But some things were off about him - his suit, usually buttoned-up, hung open to reveal a crinkled and creased shirt, the tails un-tucked from his trousers and the top button undone with his tie handing loosely around his neck.  
He looked like he’d had a rough night.  
“I can actually say the same for you too.” He confessed and I gave him a questioning look, but didn’t push it for now.  
We stood in silence for a minute, both of us drinking in the odd situation we had found ourselves in – neither expecting to have been in the same room as the other again. It was almost surreal.  
I eventually broke the silence, “Look Frost,as much as I would love to stay and chat – or not as the case may be,” I teased, “I actually have a job I am supposed to be doing…” I trailed off suggestively gesturing at the drink bottles and taps around me.  
“I get that [Y/N], I do. But I actually need to talk to you.” Urged Frost, not use to considering other people’s lives in his usual line of work.  
“And I get that.” I retorted. “But some people need to work to live – and that includes me.  
If you are willing to wait around till my shift ends, then we can talk.” I informed him and he seemed to consider his options behind he submitted and gave me a single conformational nod. I nodded back at him and turned to leave.  
“Oh.” I said, turning back to him, “You do need to promise me something.” I stated, looking him dead in the eye and pointing a finger at his broad chest, “You tell no one – and I mean no one,” I emphasised, “about me or my situation. That includes your green haired boss. We need to talk about this all first.”  
Frost frowned at me and my stipulations but eventually nodded. “Fine.” He muttered.  
“Fine.” I mimicked, “See you at 11.” With that I grabbed my tray of drinks Frankie had kindly finished making for me and walked back toward my job, but hesitated. I looked back over my shoulder to see Frost pull out a phone from his jacket pocket, unlock it and begin flicking his fingers over the screen, skim reading something. I frowned and turned, putting the tray back on the bar and returning to stand in front of him, eyeing him suspiciously.  
“What?” he asked rudely, not looking up until I didn’t say anything, at which point he lifted his head and raised an insolent eyebrow at me.  
“Give me your phone.” I ordered without wavering.  
“Why?” he asked stubbornly, keeping a tight grip on his little black device.  
“I don’t trust you not to tell him.” I stated bluntly.  
“I won’t.”  
“Yeah right.” I said unconvinced, “You’re the Joker’s lap dog whether you like it or not.” I pointed out, both of us flinching slightly at his the name. I recovered from the slip and carried on, “You say you won’t now, and I know you say you ‘don’t work for him anymore’” I said using my fingers as quotation marks, “but your natural response to anything like this would be to taddle – so how do I know you won’t convince yourself into doing it whilst you’re sat here?”  
He looked at me with a calculated expression, almost as though trying to determine if I had lost my mind or if I was actually speaking some sense. Eventually he nodded, handing me the phone without a word.  
I took the phone from his large hand, feeling the rough skin beneath my fingers, and slipped it into the back pocket of my trousers. I gave him a nod and returned to my tray of drinks, leaving him leaning against the bar.

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I kept my eye on him for the rest of the night as I navigated my way around the pub - taking orders, delivering drinks and wiping down tables. All he did however was find a stool at the bar and remain there, nursing several strong drinks.  
As the night wore on the pub began to thin out – no one exactly being late night partiers in this quaint little town.  
When I noticed him swallow down rest of his amber liquid and order his fourth, I headed to the bar to intercept the order - telling Frankie, who was manning the bar, that “I got his one” with a quick smile. She shrugged her shoulders, not caring that she didn’t need to serve one other patron and moved on to the next person gesturing for her attention.  
He looked at me in confusion and I could already see the alcohol clouding his mind in the smallest of actions – the way he was slumped instead of sat tall and proper, the way his hands rested - not ready for any quick reflex - and the way his eyes were drooping slightly - no longer bright and alert. I felt sorry for him, but I wouldn’t let him drown himself in alcohol.  
“Sorry my friend, I’m cutting you off.” I told him, removing the glass before him and replacing it with some water. “Drink that or don’t drink anything.”  
He looked at the drink before him, realised it wasn’t alcoholic, and looked at me reproachfully, trying to make me cower under his glower. I didn’t back down however, matching his stare with my own stern glare, “This is going to be hard enough, without having to deal with you completely wasted.” I defended. He grumbled something unintelligible before standing up - leaving his water - and walking off to an empty booth in a quieter part of the pub, sitting with his back to the majority of the pub. I sighed loudly in exasperation and left him to it, returning once more to my job. However, when I wandered past his booth, I silently slid a glass of water toward him. I moved off before I saw his reaction but the next time I looked over the glass was empty.  
\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Eventually, after what seemed like too long and not long enough, I served my last drink. I made my way to the back room, untying my apron on the way. I hung my apron up and retrieved my belongings from my locker, hanging my bag over my shoulder. I paused in the middle of the room to compose myself before I made my way back out into the main pub, over to where Frost sat silently in his booth, staring at the empty bench in front of him.  
I stood before his table looking at his side profile. He didn’t make a move.  
“Ok.” I sighed, placing my hands on my hips and shifting most of my weight into my left leg, “Let’s talk.”


	27. Chapter 27

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, next part’s ready-ish!
> 
> I’m sorry if Frost isn’t great or out of character - I don’t really know his character particularly well so I kind of made it up.
> 
> I’ve changed and edited this quite a bit, so sorry if there’s any inconsistencies or anything like that!
> 
> Enjoy! :)

I slid into the seat across from Frost and looked over at him. He looked back, but neither of us spoke and I could feel a tightness forming in my chest from nerves of the situation. How was I going to explain any of this?   
I couldn’t hold eye contact with the burly man in front of me, my courage soon giving out and I dropped my eyes to the battered wooden table between us, studying the cracks and dents that littered the top. I fidgeted with my hands, folded and unfolding them before laying the awkwardly in my lap, never usually this self-aware and so unsure what I usually did with them.  
“Can I have my phone back now?” Asked Frost, finally breaking the silence and causing me to lift my gaze from what I suspected was a sticky puddle of spilt drink on the table.  
“Uh, yeah, sure.” I mumbled, digging into my trouser pocket to pull out his phone before sliding it across the table toward him. He grunted a thanks at me and turned his attention to the little gadget as the silence reformed around us.  
Now he wasn’t looking at me I gained a bit of my confidence back and, keeping my face down at the table, I peeked up through my eyelashes at him. From what I could see of him he looked exhausted. He hadn’t bothered to smooth any of his clothing disarray I had noticed earlier and the bags under his eyes screamed for a good night sleep.  
I wondered how long it had been since he had quit – if he truly had – from the Joker. How long had he been travelling to get here? And why was he here? What were the chances of him coming to this tiny town exactly when I was here? Was it chance or did he know something – and did that mean that the Joker knew? Had he been sent here to get me? I began to feel the panic building in my body. My plan must have failed somehow, I must have not accounted for something, something that now meant everyone knew! But what would happen now? If the Joker knew would he drag me back to Gotham? Was that Frost was here for? But the Joker didn’t care about me anymore, had he told Penguin? Would Penguin bring me back or kill me for breaching our contract?!  
I could feel my heart physically pounding in my chest and my breath was short as I alarmed myself thinking through all possible outcomes. Maybe if I could get away now I could make it back to my place and leave before anyone realised? I could go into hiding and keep moving between places so they would never catch up to me.  
That sounded exhausting though. I had done it briefly after leaving Gotham and had hated it – never settling, the constant worry as to where to go next.  
“If you’re thinking of running, don’t.” muttered Frost, his voice almost sounding bored – like this was something he had to repeat a lot. He hadn’t looked up from his phone screen, but clearly sensed my agitation from across the table. “No one can run forever. We always catch up.” He said ominously, typing something onto his phone. “Not that there is a ‘we’ anymore.” He murmured to himself, pushing a final button before slipping the device it into an inside pocket of his jacket.  
I didn’t say anything to this, I just watched his every movement, tensed for whatever he might do next – for him to explain everything or just simply pull a gun on me.   
Why hadn’t I thought of any of this earlier when I had first saw him? I would have had plenty of time to get away, but instead I had got too hung up on the fact that it was good to see a familiar face, especially one that reminded me of him.   
Why did it only occur to me what a bad idea this was when I was sat opposite to Frost?!  
I didn’t want to take my eyes off him in case I missed something important, but I could tell the pub was now basically empty as it was close to closing. Great no witnesses I thought sarcastically.  
I tried to swallow the lump in my throat but it didn’t help and my insides felt tight and twisted. I couldn’t stand the suspense anymore. “Will you please just tell me what’s going on! Or just bloody kill me!” I blurted out, almost screaming at him from my nerves and fears getting the better of me. Frosts eyes shot open in surprise at my sudden outburst.  
“Kill you?” He repeated in confusion, “I have no over powering desire to kill you [Y/N].” he stated, trying to provide a bit of comfort to me, but it did nothing to soothe my already tightly wound nerves.  
“Then pleeeasssee!” I dragged out in a beg, “Just tell me what you want from me, or what you’re going to do!” I cried in desperation, and slight hysteria. He looked at me like I’d lost my slightly lost my mind, but then his face turned to one of puzzlement, before he looked away from me in thought.  
“To be honest [Y/N], I don’t know.” He admitted, with a shrug of his shoulder, looking out into the centre of the empty room. “I wasn’t expecting to actually find you here.”  
It was my turn to look confused now. “What do you mean?” I muttered quietly.  
Frost ran one of his hands through his short hair, scratching the back of his head as he seemed to think about how to explain. “Well to start with you were supposed to be dead.” he pointed out. “After that...” He trailed off, letting out a life that signalled his exhaustion was getting to him.  
He truly didn’t seem to know what was going on any more than I did, and he didn’t seem to want to hurt me either. This gave me a bit of comfort and meant I could focus a bit better, the blood pumping through my veins not feeling as strong as before.  
I could see now however, that if I wanted answers I was going to have to ask them. “So…” I started, searching for what I wanted to know first, “You truly don’t work for the Joker anymore?” I hesitated before I said his name, and still felt my heart jump a when I said it.  
Frost finally faced me again, “No. I don’t.” He said simply. I rolled my eyes and sighed. This was going to be a long night if this was the best answer he could give.  
“Why?” I pushed him.  
He narrowed his eyes at me slightly, “Didn’t you hear me earlier? I knew you were listening in.”  
“Well yeah, I just wasn’t 100% sure it was the truth, or if you missed anything out…” I trailed off and looking away in embarrassment that it had been so obvious I was eavesdropping.  
It was ‘100% true’”, he quoted back mockingly, “Boss- I mean - he, he’d gotten even worse than usual He’s just been carelessly destroying things without rhythm or reason.” He explained, I raised an eyebrow at him, “I know he doesn’t seem like he usually has a reason anyway, but it’s usually for a joke to him or some sort of long term plan of his. But recently. It’s for nothing.”  
“So that’s why you left?” I asked as I leant forward in interest, folding my arms on the table.  
“Sort of. I’ve just been nothing but a getaway vehicle on the off-chance he survived recently. He rarely ever gives me any orders other than to wait in the car and never calls for backup anymore. If he can’t handle the situation he doesn’t even care, he just stays in there, waiting to be overwhelmed. If it wasn’t for the fact I automatically follow after him now, he’d have been landed in Arkham on every mission - or worse.” Frost shook his head slightly at this and ran his hand back through his hair, “I’m pretty sure if he got thrown in that damn Asylum again he wouldn’t even bother to break out anymore.” He admitted twisting in his chair so he faced the rest of the pub instead of me.  
“As much as I’m just hired muscle and he’s just a psychotic clown I can’t stand by and watch him become suicidal.” Confessed Frost who seemed to be staring at a table across the room - though I was sure he wasn’t actually seeing it, but instead reliving the past few missions he had done with the Clown Prince.  
I nodded as he spoke; I understood that for Frost - as much as he wouldn’t admit it – there was almost a kind of friendship there, in a weird kind of way. I didn’t know what I could say to provide support or consolation, and I was almost certain Frost didn’t want any comfort I would offer. Men.  
We fell back into an awkward silence – at least it was awkward for me, Frost still seemed to be in a world of his own. I fidgeted in my seat and fiddled with my hands that still lay in my lap – I needed to keep the conversation going.  
“Uh – so how is it that he hasn’t?” Frost glanced over his shoulder at me, “You-know – got caught yet?” I clarified lamely.  
Frost shrugged his shoulders, and returned his gaze to the rest of the pub, “I really don’t know – it’s pure chance. He will soon, if he hasn’t already.”  
“How long ago did you leave?”  
Frost paused and considered this. “3 days ago.”  
I was surprised by this. That meant he couldn’t have stopped anywhere else – he came straight to this little town. “You came straight here?” He nodded without looking around at me. “Why?”  
He turned back around to face me again, crossing his arms – he seemed glad to have changed the subject and had resorted back to his usual self. “I got a call.”  
I raised an eyebrow in annoyance at his vagueness, “From…?” I pressed.  
“A girl. She said she had met someone who had over reacted about the Joker – practically defended him - and who seemed pretty attached to the clown. She wanted to know why. Seemed like someone who was quite keen on a good gossip.”  
I sat up straight, my hands falling back into my lap. No. It couldn’t have been.   
“What was her name?” I asked through gritted teeth, my temper flaring and I clenched my hands into fists beneath the table.   
“Don’t really recall – didn’t seem that important.” He looked at my face and read the anger there, “I don’t know, maybe Harriet? Hannah?”  
Hannah. Bitch. I couldn’t believe her! Was this before or after we’d had our talk about not bringing it up again?! Did it really matter? It was still low to go digging around in my past – she could have ruined everything! “I knew I should have bloody killed her.” I grumbled to myself, not really meaning it.  
“What?” Shot Frost, clearly having heard what I had muttered. I blushed at his sudden interest.  
“Uh- it’s nothing. I may have had an urge, or two, at one point, but it’s fine.” I stuttered out, trying to brush it off as a silly little incident, but I could see Frost was more alert now. I tried to move the subject on, “So, uh, did she say anything else?”  
Frost eyed me and I could tell he knew I was trying to avoid the subject, but he let it slide anyway. “Well I did the usual background check on her –a random small town girl somehow getting hold of my phone number was suspicious – so I questioned her about all of that.”  
“And?”  
“Nothing - she’s just very dedicated to her gossip.” I noticed Frosts lip turn up a bit in a slight smirk and I rolled my eyes at him. “After that I was interested about what she was so desperate to know about.” He confessed, “I had no idea it was you she was talking about. The idea of someone raving about the Clown Prince of Crime, or even defending him didn’t immediately make me think of you.” I blushed because – of course – I had. “I asked for the name anyway, but of course it wasn’t you.”  
That was true, it wouldn’t have been. I had formed a whole new identity for myself to prevent exactly this happening – any rumours or gossip finding their way back to Gotham.  
“The only part that gave me any indication it might be you was her description. She described the ‘person’ before she even told me anything else – it was the only reason I let her prattle on so long. It fit you exactly. But then, of course after that, nothing else added up.” He stopped then, not saying anything else.  
“So? What’s that got to do with anything?” I asked frustrated - still confused how this meant he ended up here.  
“Well this happened whilst I was still working for him. We were both working under the fact that you were dead – though no one had yet to recover a body. So this story just seemed impossible to be you – you’re not the only one that can look like that,” he gestured at me with a wave of his hand. “So I dropped it. Didn’t even bother telling the Boss.” Frost shrugged. “Then I left him and needed some place to go, start again. I remember the name of the town that girl – Hannah?” I nodded silently, “yeah, she mentioned this town before I hung up on her – I guess it stuck in my head.” He said simply.  
“So you didn’t actually come looking for me?”  
“No. Had no idea that you were actually alive, let alone here.” He exclaimed, “I guess I just thought it was a good place to start at before I figured out what I was going to do.”  
I sat leant backwards in my chair, throwing my head back. This was a lot of information in a very brief time and it was overwhelming me. Frost appeared to have woken up with his story telling and seemed to have a new lease of life, but I was now exhausted.  
I scrubbed my face with my hands, trying to keep myself going, and get all this information straight. “Wait,” I said suddenly, swinging my head forward to look at Frost again, “You say that you left him, did you tell him or did you just – you-know – leave?”  
Frost raised an eyebrow at me as if I’d just asked the stupidest question he’d ever heard, “Have you ever tried to tell him something?” I got his point and nodded my head at this. He let out a loud breath, “No, I didn’t tell him. I left early one morning.” He paused, “Truthfully I don’t think he would have listened if I’d told him.”  
“That explains your drinking earlier.” I teased with a small smile, he looked at me like I wasn’t the least bit funny, but his eyes were light so I knew he wasn’t really annoyed, “I’m not proud, “ he started, “but you’d do the same if you’d just up and left the bloody Joker – he’s not been known to take kindly to deserters.”  
I nodded and made noises in agreement - yeah I could understand that perfectly. We lapsed into silence again, but it felt more comfortable now – both of us having cleared the air somewhat between us. I leant forward again, leaning my elbows on the table so I could put my chin on my hands, resting my now heavy head.  
I could feel my eyes getting heavy and I closed them for some relief. This was a weird night alright, my life felt like, once again, it had been spun upside down. Never in my wildest dreams did I expect Frost to suddenly turn up, but then I never imagined Hannah to seek him out! I sat up at the reminder of the betrayal, clenching my fists again – but wasn’t it my fault for being do ridiculous over a newspaper article? A small voice in the back of my mind said. Suddenly I felt my head falling to the side and my arm nearly gave way beneath me. I shot up quickly blinking rapidly in surprise that I was not sat upright with clenched fists.  
“Alright. I’m calling it a night.” I said unequivocally, pushing myself to my feet abruptly and losing my balance slightly, catching myself on the table. Frost sat up slightly, from where he too had been slumping.  
“I suppose you’re right – you do look like you’re about to drop.” He stated, rising from his seat to join me by the table. I looked over at him annoyed that he was picking on me like I was weak little girl.  
“Oh, and you the picture of coping?” I asked rhetorically, gesturing him up and down. He looked down at himself at his crinkled, untucked shirt, creased jacket and loose hanging tie. I was certain I caught a slight look of embarrassment but he quickly hid it behind his calm mask. He didn’t say anything in retort.  
He followed me as I made my way out of the pub. I waved at the evening cleaning lady as I left who waved back surprised there was still someone in the building other herself, and became even more surprised when she noticed the well-built, intimidating man following on behind me.  
I stopped outside the entrance and turned to Frost, “I presume you have a place to stay?”  
“I was planning to find a place for the evening.” He informed me and I rolled my eyes at him again.  
“Well good luck with that.” I said without hesitation, giving him a cheerful smile. If he seemed phased that I hadn’t offered help or shelter, he quickly hid it, only lingering on the spot for a few moments before he headed in the opposite direction, further into the town centre. “Well goodnight.” I muttered sarcastically into the darkness as I headed home.  
When I finally closed my front door behind me, I found myself breaking down into tears. Everything today had slowly been winding me tighter and tighter, and - now in the comfort of my own home - I felt like I could finally let out the breath I had been holding since the start of my shift when I had seen Frost.  
They weren’t tears of sadness, just tears of no longer having the energy to control anything, tears that contained every emotion I had experienced that day – shock, relief, joy, fear, and anger – everything all finally pouring out of me.  
I managed to find the energy to deadbolt as well as lock my door tonight – never having done so because, well, would I in a town where the only crime was too high a price on the local vegetable stand? But now - if people from my past were going to start reappearing - I no longer felt as safe.  
When I finally collapsed into bed - though my mind continued to whirl with thoughts and worries - it wasn’t long before exhaustion won over and I sunk into a dreamless sleep.


	28. Chapter 28

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hiya!
> 
> Next part is ready - sorry its rather long but I must admit I’m quite proud of the ending so I hope you enjoy it too!
> 
> Promise the Joker will eventually return! (sorry there hasn’t been much for a while!)
> 
> Let me know what you think - I love hearing from you guys!
> 
> Trigger Warning: There is a mention of suicide - its literally just the word and doesn’t go any further than that really but don’t read it if it’ll trigger you please!

When I woke up the next morning, I was staring up at the ceiling. I blinked a few times - not knowing where I was for a moment and could feel my heart pounding before my situation rushed back to me and I calmed slightly. All too soon though the night before came back to me and my heart seemed to skip again. “Oh my god…” I groaned out loud, turning over in my bed and burying my face in the pillow, throwing the little bit of duvet over me that wasn’t in a pile on the floor.  
I stayed like that for a few minutes, trying to build the momentum to get myself out of bed and attempt to be alive. Eventually I rolled out, catching myself before I hit the floor and giggling too myself. Obviously I was going insane, or maybe I was just still seriously tired.  
I dragged my feet around the house as I got ready for the day – luckily not having a shift at the pub until late that evening. As I flicked the kettle on and pulled down a mug from the shelf above the sink I heard a knock on my front door.  
I looked at my cup in confusion. No one ever called at my house – did anyone even know where I lived? I moved toward the door cautiously, hearing another knock - more impatient this time. I moved a bit quicker toward the door and pulled it open. There, stood before me, was Frost. He was dressed in his usual attire of suit, jacket and a frown, but compared to last night, he was much more orderly - his shirt crisp and ironed, his tie neatly knotted closer to his throat. He looked smart and rested.  
I scowled at my unwelcome guest. “How did you know where I lived?”  
“Asked.” He stated simply, pushing past me into my house. I didn’t bother to resist him, just let him push past as I was left stood in the doorway looking out into the yard with my forehead crinkled in confusion.  
“Who?!” I exclaimed wildly - at a loss as to who knew where I lived. The only person that should know was the Farmer I rented from, I’d never told anyone else – it took a while for me build that sort of trust up, especially now.  
“A women in the Bed and Breakfast,” called Frost as he walked away, “the maid? Or maybe she was the owner? Might have been both.” He said dismissively.  
I remained in the doorway, glaring daggers at his retreating figure, “I’ll have you know Maggie is a perfectly nice lady! Don’t be so damn rude!”  
He ignored my scolding and continued down the hallway without hesitation, peering into each room he passed. I sighed in exasperation at his lack of response and poor manners as he just causally strode through my home. I slammed the front door shut in frustration before following on behind him, muttering to myself “How the hell did Maggie Dune know where I lived?!”  
Frost must have heard because, as he turned into my kitchen at the end of the hall, he called back over his shoulder, “You appear to be the talk of this small town – I was questioned by nearly everyone in that tiny house when I asked about you.”  
I sighed shaking my head at this. Small town gossip. I should have known. Everyone knew everyone here and actively sought out information about new people. I was lucky that I had covered my past well before moving here or else it wouldn’t have taken long for them to dig it up – well I had it covered up until the other-day.  
I turned the corner at the end of the hallway and entered the kitchen to see Frost peering around the small room, apparently unimpressed with it based on his facial expression.  
I was about to demand what he was doing here when the kettle signalled for attention with his high pitch sharp whistle. I pushed past Frost who was stood in the middle of the room and grabbed my mug before pausing. I sighed again – curse my good manners – “Do you want a cup?” I reluctantly asked, turning slightly towards him.  
“Please.” He affirmed, “Coffee. Black. No sugar.” He directed. I nodded at the instructions and turned my back to him again as I made the drinks, whilst Frost leant against one of my counters, continuing to observe his surroundings. I couldn’t help but wonder, as he stood there, what he was thinking. Did he have training for this? Did he just enter a room and immediately clock all viable escape routes, all possible weapons in a room? Was a spoon a weapon? I thought looking at my counters where there was a few dirty dishes and cutlery say. I shook my head – pointless thoughts. I would never know because I would never ask and I was almost certain he would never tell – at least not the truth.  
I turned back to him with the two mugs, handing him one of my more sophisticated mugs that didn’t have funny words or pictures on them and was slightly less chipped than most – though he still seemed to look at it with a certain amount of disdain. I rolled my eyes at his pickiness and moved to the opposite side of the small room, copying his stance as I leant half on a counter and half on the sink, sipping my drink.  
We stood in awkward silence again, the openness we had gained from last night’s frankness and alcohol having been boarded up once more with fresh morning and formalities.  
I fought back the urge to fidget and swallowed the nerves I could feel growing in my stomach. “So why are you here?” I asked outright.  
“I thought I made that clear last night.” He said, raising one eyebrow at me as though he was wondering if I had some sort of memory loss problem, and taking a drink, his eyes not leaving me.  
“Not here, as in the town. Here as in my house!” I clarified hotly, gesturing wildly at the room with my free hand.  
“I thought that would be obvious.” Frost stated vaguely. I could feel him getting on my nerves quickly, but I didn’t know if he was doing it on purpose.   
“God I preferred you when you weren’t sober.” I muttered in annoyance at my floor by his feet as I took a sip from my mug. When I looked up I noticed he had raised his eyebrows at my comment  
“I told you my side last night. You need to tell me yours.” He told me, un-amused by my little side comment. “Don’t think you can skip town on me either.” He added his frown deepening - indicating that he had seen my suitcase sat in the corridor on his way in. “I know you’re alive now. I know ways to track you that wouldn’t even cross you mind – I’d always find you down eventually.”  
It was true I had considered making a run for it last night before I had collapsed into bed, but in the cold light of day I couldn’t for the life of me remember what my sleep-deprived brain had been thinking of in terms of a plan. I could no longer see any situation in which I could run and avoid Frost – like he said, he could easily find me. The real question was – why did he want to? Why was he so desperate to talk to me so much? Surely knowing how I died would make no real difference to him?  
I shrugged at him, unfazed by his warnings as I wasn’t actually planning on it anymore, “You can’t really blame me for considering it.” I said to annoy him a bit.  
Frost sighed deeply as if there was a large stress on his shoulders, “Look [Y/N], I get why you left-“ I slammed my mug down on the counter top next to me.  
“Do you?!” I demanded, ignoring the liquid that slopped over the edge of my mug and was forming a puddle around the base of my cup. “Do you understand every little tiny detail that was going on in my life?! Do you understand how everything made me feel? How Penguin made me feel?! Did you know he was going to hire me out as ‘entertainment’” I cried, quoting angrily at him with my fingers, almost in hysterics, “all because that damn clown had shown an interest in me and tricked me into fal-“ I faltered then, dropping my head and covering my face with my hands as I sobbed loudly. I couldn’t admit it to Frost; it was too embarrassing, too fresh and too painful.  
Frost didn’t say anything, clearly lost by my sudden outburst and not use to dealing with emotional women – angry gangstas, powers mob members, armed cops - sure.  
A pathetic girl crying her heart out in front of him – that was something he wasn’t trained for and had basically no experience with – other than maybe putting a bullet in their head.  
I remained hidden behind my palms, as the tears continued to stream down my face, but I heard Frost put his mug down and felt him move towards me slowly, almost cautiously. Suddenly I felt his strong arms wrap around me and I was pulled against him, my hands dropping from my face and instinctively landing on his large, hard chest, maintaining a small distance between us.  
“What-“ I sniffed in confusion and surprise.  
“Just shut up for a second.” Frost commanded gruffly and I closed my mouth. The shock of the gesture had stopped my tears and I let my hands drop in defeat so they hung limply at my side, his arms pulling me deeper into the hug. My body was now completely against his, my face pressed into the lapel of his jacket. I could feel my face getting hot even with cooling water on my cheek which was now dampening the material beneath me. I was glad my face was largely hidden from his eye - it had been a long time since I was this close to a man and it felt weird to be so intimate with Frost.  
Frost didn’t seem to know how long he was supposed to hold me, but being crushed into the cashmere material made it hard to breathe and I was constantly sniffing in a desperate attempt not to ruin his suit with my runny nose. I tried to pull away slightly but I was pitifully weak compared to his strong embrace.  
“Uh –Frosty?” I tried to gasp out faintly, speaking into his chest and tapping him as best as I could with my arms pinned to my side.  
He released me and immediately created distance between us by stepping back a few feet. I dropped my face to hide the state I must look and frantically wiped at my eyes and nose so I would look slightly more presentable. I looked up through my eyelashes and saw Frost observing the ruined patch I had created on his jacket. I quickly grabbed a box of tissues that I had sat on the microwave and vaguely waved them at him without lifting my head. He grabbed a few with a murmur of thanks and then I did the same.  
We both stood on opposite sides of the kitchen hopelessly trying to tidy ourselves us. It felt surreal.  
After a while I thought I was slightly more together, but continued to pretend to be fixing myself because I didn’t want to stand in awkward silence again. I cleared my throat, swallowing the lump that had gathered in my throat, along with my emotions. I let out a deep breath in an attempt to gain back some control over myself, any annoyance or frustration with Frost having melted away with his unusually tender gesture. I felt like I needed to match his kindness by getting him out of this awkward situation of how to move forward. Best thing for him to do is ignore what just happened. I appreciated it, but I knew he’d be uncomfortable talking about it.  
“So what do you want to know?” I asked frankly, ignoring what just happened in an attempt to show the same kindness back that he had shown me – I knew we were in the awkward situation of how to move forward, I also knew he wouldn’t want to talk about it. Best to pretend it didn’t happen, even if I appreciated it.  
He looked up from his jacket when I spoke, briefly looking puzzled before he recognised what I was trying to do. He placed the tissue on the side, straightened his jacket out and faced me straight on, “How is it your alive?”  
I wasn’t surprised at how blunt he was – I was finding it to be a clear Frost trait. I moved away from the counter - stuffing my used tissues into my back pocket and picking up mug - and went to sit at the small kitchen table. Frost followed in silence with his drink in hand and sat opposite.   
As so I told him. I explained my original plan as well as what actually happened, no longer bothering to keep track of anything that I should maybe hold back from it. It was nice to confide in someone for once, feel like I could talk to someone without judging or people thinking I was insane – hell, Frost had probably heard much worst from him.  
“That’s actually pretty impressive.” Frost admitted once I had finished, though I could tell he meant it was impressive for me, not necessarily him.  
“Gee thanks.” I muttered sarcastically, partially still lost in recollection as I stared at my finger tracing the lip of my mug. The only thing that had really gone wrong with my plan was dropping my gun. I ran over the moment in my head, the faded and cloudy but I remembered hitting the water and, if I thought hard enough, I felt that I might be able to remember the point at which I lost the weight of the gun in my hand.  
But maybe it was for the best. It stopped me thinking so much of him, it stopped me murdering someone, and it stopped me being traced back to Gotham – heck how was I going to explain I had a dead girl’s gun who looked a lot like me?   
“He has it you know.” Said Frost out of the blue, breaking into my thoughts. “Your gun.” He clarified. Damn mind reader.  
“I know.” I murmured, glancing slightly up at Frost, but continuing to draw a circle around the top of my mug with my index finger. He looked at me confused. I stood up and moved just behind Frost where I opened at draw in the counter and pulled out the old Gotham Gazette. “This found its way into the pub the other day.” I explained dropping it in front of him before sitting back down in my chair and taking a swig from my cup – the coffee now lukewarm. “Hence why I was ‘raving’” I quoted, smirking slightly.  
Frost nodded in understanding, unfolding the paper and skimming over the article. I waited as he read, sipping aimlessly at my drink and staring into space. Eventually Frost refolded the paper, leaving the picture of the Joker with his unemotional rictus and dark blank eyes. I stared at it for a while, unable to take my eyes off it before I abruptly shot myself forward and flipped it upside down so only the text from the articles and a few adverts were visible. When I settle backed down in my seat I could feel my heart beat pounding against my skin and I stared at the colourful cup before me.  
“He jumped in the river.” Stated Frost calmly, but making me jump slightly none the less. I looked up at him but he was staring in his own mug at the pool of dark coffee that remained in the bottom. “There was a moment when I actually thought he’d finally lost it.” Frost admitted, “Gone suicidal.” He explained, pausing before lifting his head to meet my gaze.  
“But Boss remerged a few minutes later with your gun in his hand.” Frost told me, “Though that wasn’t what surprised me the most.” He shook his head slightly, as though he wanted the memory out of his mind.  
“What?” I murmured, barely above a whisper, not bothering to correct him that he fallen back into calling him ‘Boss’ again.  
“His face. It terrified me. He looked almost tortured. Like he’d seen something in those waters that had struck him to the core. That’s why I was so certain you were dead. I thought he’d seen you.  
I couldn’t tell you what emotion he was feeling at that point – he looked angry at one angle, sad at another, but he always kept that damn grin of his on – though for once it didn’t me-“  
“-meet his eyes.” I finished with him. He nodded at my guess. “That’s what I see when I look at that picture” I said quietly, and he knew I was talking about the newspaper.  
“The only time I’ve really seen him like that before was when he went off on a rage at Penguin’s.” Frost said truthfully. I perked up at this.  
“When did he do that?” I questioned.  
“It was the afternoon after you jumped.” Frost informed me, “Penguin called a meeting with the Boss like he often has. I waited outside.”  
“What happened?”  
“I don’t know the whole story – I couldn’t hear everything. He seemed to tell the boss what happened to you – Boss didn’t take it well. I think I heard him ask Penguin why you would have done it – Boss didn’t like that either.” Frost shook his head, “Then he just lost it. Completely. Damn near strangled that fat man to death. Took out most of his men – and it wasn’t quick and clean either.”  
I looked away and gulped. I couldn’t imagine what it was like – I wasn’t that creative – but I knew what he was capable of.  
“Once we’d made it outside we commandeered a vehicle and went to the bridge. Then he jumped.”  
We fell into silence again as I digested the information.  
“[Y/N]” Frost suddenly spoke up – clearly wanting to say something he’d been holding back for a while. I looked at him with concern – what was he so worried about? “[Y/N].” He repeated and I nodded to encourage him to go on, “I need you to come back to Gotham with me.” he said frankly.  
I didn’t say a word, just stared at him in wide eyed shock. So he was here to take me back! Had he lied to me?! Had he known I was alive? Had he known I was here? Did the Joker?!  
I could feel my mouth was slightly agape at but I couldn’t find it in myself to do anything about it. “You lied to me.” I breathed at him, “You said you didn’t know I was alive. You said you weren’t here to get me.”  
“No - [Y/N] – it’s not –“  
“I can’t believe I trusted you.” I muttered, staring at the table in front of me, “I knew I should have run when I had the chance. I should have run when I saw that paper. I’m not far enough away.” I babbled to myself.  
“[Y/N], you don’t understand. The Joker is doing all of this because of you!” Frost said, grabbing the newspaper that had been left forgotten on the table and flipping it so the main picture faced up again. “If you came back –“  
“No!” I cried, pushing myself up abruptly so I stood before him, “Don’t you dare blame this all on me!” I screamed snatching the newspaper from the table and thrusting it in his face. Frost sat in silence, no retaliation leaving his lips. As I stood there in silence, holding the newspaper aloft and breathing heavily, I couldn’t help but think - What had got the Joker acting like this? It did seem to be me. But that couldn’t possibly be true. Maybe he was just pissed because I had found a way out of his traps. That I had escaped and he couldn’t play and torment me anymore. I was just a toy he had lost – he’d get over it soon and find a new person to turn into his life-size doll.  
He was a manipulative, psychopathic torturer and I needed him completely out of my life. That meant no more thinking about him, no more newspapers, no more Gotham and definitely no more Frost.  
I strode over to the bin and let the paper fall from my hand, shutting the bin over the top in with a satisfy thud. I then took a calming breath and turned to the henchman before me. “Frost. Thank you for telling me all this – though a part of me also wished you hadn’t” I admitted truthfully, I shook my head – I had to be strong, stern. “I see no further reason for us to see each other,” I stated briskly, “so I shall walk you to the door and I wish you well on wherever you are going now.”  
Frost looked surprise at my sudden turn of mood, and stood up alongside me, the coffee mugs left cold and forgotten on the table, “[Y/N] I –“  
“I would also like to inform you,” I interrupted him, “that I shall be moving on from here as soon as can be arranged and I would greatly appreciate it if you didn’t attempt to find me.” I told him formally but firmly, though already I could feel tears pricking at my eyes and my throat going tight.  
“But [Y/N] –“  
“Enough! Frost.” I cried, biting back my tears as they welled in the corner of my eyes. “There is nothing else I can give you! You have the answers you wanted! Isn’t it time you left me in peace?” I insisted. Frost looked lost as to what he should do now, like he wanted to say something but didn’t know how. “Look, I’d like to consider you a friend.” I said honestly trying, but failing to hide the emotion in my voice, “So can you be a friend and let me get on with my new life, without all this drudging up of my past?” I begged.  
He looked at me and I think he could see how desperate I was to get him out of my house. He finally gave me a silent nod and followed me out of the kitchen and down the hallway to the front door. I opened it and he stepped out. “One last thing Frost.” I called, “Please promise me you won’t tell anyone about me, especially him.” I looked him dead in the eye and he looked back. There was something there. He still wanted to say something. “Promise me.” I pleaded and I could feel one traitorous tear fall down my cheek.  
He nodded. “Say it!” I cried.  
“I promise.”  
And with that, I slammed the door closed.


	29. Chapter 29

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi Everyone - I want to post this chapter, though I’m not sure how happy I am with it. i keep reading it over and over and editing bits and pieces of it and I’m still not 100% happy with it but I’m also not sure how to truly make it better so I’m just going to bite the bullet and post it.
> 
> I apologise if I made Frost too soft - I struggle with his character quite a bit! Also I feel like bits of it are a bit choppy and it doesn’t really flow great, so sorry for that too!
> 
> I hope you enjoy it anyway!
> 
> I appreciate all your support and I love any feedback!  
> Thank you to everyone that comments/review this! You guys keep me writing and I can't explain how i feel when I read any of your comments - they make my day! Thank you all sooo much - i only hope I can keep you guys interested in my writing!

Frost didn’t come back that day. When I had finally closed the door on him I had just broken down, finally letting the tears flow freely. It took me a while to calm down, I had trusted him, but why had I? There was nothing about him that should have made him trustworthy – look what he did for a living! Why had I even fallen for it?  
After spending most of my day debating back and forth I finally went to my shift at the pub that evening. I was worried Frost would be waiting for me there - having somehow tracked down my job rota – and wanted to corner me somewhere public so that I couldn’t run without causing a scene. But I knew that I couldn’t live in fear of him forever – I had a job and I needed the money, my funds from my previous job having run low from my travelling and rent – so I had sucked it up and gone.   
I was not regretting it however, having spent my shift constantly listening for the door - my head snapping over to it whenever it was opened. I was so jumpy I was asked several times if I was okay by the other waitresses - none of whom seem to believe me when I tried to reassure them.  
Hannah was also there that evening. When I saw her start her shift behind the bar I felt my anger flood instantly back into me. She was the reason I was going through all this torment with Frost. “Bitch.” I muttered under my breath as I cleaned a particularly sticky table. The best thing for me to do now was to completely ignore her. Silent treatment was the only punishment I would allow myself to deal out to her, anything more satisfying would be frowned upon in a court of law, I thought bitterly.   
Something in me seemed to have seriously changed.  
She didn’t seem to notice any change in me though – we barely spoke anymore now anyway since the newspaper incidence. Though we agreed to put it behind us, things were still awkward.  
I tried to keep my mind of her and Frost throughout the shifts the next few days – though it never seemed to really work and it was mentally exhausting, causing me to collapse in bed each night with a pounding headache.  
\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

After a week of no sight or sound from Frost - but still hours of torment on my behalf - I presumed he had left town. Whether he had moved on or gone back to Gotham I didn’t know and was trying not to care.   
I was close now to getting enough money to finally be able to move on from this small life and start once again - now having handed in my two week notice to my boss. To celebrate, I was allowing myself a chance to finally relax by nursing a cup of tea curled up in my armchair reading an old favourite book of mine. I was taking a sip from my mug when I heard a knock at the front door. I frowned wondering who it could be, I presumed it must have been the farmer – I had asked him to come over when he was free so that we could talk about my final rent payment – I was paying him a bit extra for my sudden departure.  
I put my book down in the arm of the chair and pushed myself reluctantly out of my chair, heading to the front of the house.   
I unlocked the door and pulled it open to see Frost stood on the doorstep. I immediately slammed it shut.  
“[Y/N!” He called through the wood, hammering repeatedly on the old door.  
“What don’t you get about going away?!” I shouted at him. He stopped knocking.  
“What don’t you get about moving?” he retorted back loudly.  
“I’m -,” I paused, searching my brain for an excuse, not wanting to tell him - out of pride - that I had been too low on funds, something he was probably unfamiliar with – I imagined his previous job paid relatively well. “Hang on! Have you been watching me?!” I cried in realisation at what his words meant. I couldn’t believe it – trust Frost to not only still be in town, but to also be following me without me even knowing. “And if you must know,” I said curtly, “these things require a certain amount of planning!”  
“[Y/N] just let me in.” Frost groaned through the door.  
I rolled my eyes in frustration and pulled the door open again, wide enough to get a good look at him, but I made sure to fill the doorway so he couldn’t barge past me again. “I thought you left town.” I said through gritted teeth.  
“I will. But I need you to hear me out.” He said.  
“If what I need to hear are more excuses as to why I need to go back to Gotham and to that psychopathic killer, then no.” I snapped, slamming the door in his face and stalking down the hallway to the opposite end of the house - ignoring his persistent knocking and shouting – and settling back into my chair where my tea and book awaited.  
It went silent and I breathed a sigh of relief. He must have finally got the gist and left – thank God.  
“{Y/N] please-“  
“Jesus!” I shouted jumping out of my arm chair and instinctively spinning and flinging my book at Frost where he stood in the doorframe of my lounge. The hardback hit his chest before falling limply to the floor, without producing any reaction from him. I clutched at my chest as my heart pounded frantically and I shook with the adrenaline in my veins. How the bloody hell was he in my house?! He’d scared the life out of me! When I realised exactly what he must have done my temper flared and I gritted my teeth in anger as I rounded on him. “What the bloody hell do you think you’re doing!” I screamed at him, “You can’t just bloody break into my house like that!”  
“I didn’t.” He said calmly.  
“What do you bloody mean you didn’t – you’re – you’re in my house!” I shrieked, flailing my arms wildly.  
“I just went through your back door – you’re garden gate wasn’t lock and your back door was open.” He defended.  
“And you think that’s justifies you just walking in my house when I clearly don’t want you here?!” I yelled, advancing on him with clenched fists – my fury clouding any sane judgement of mine.  
He held his hands out in surrender at my menacing movements, though I doubted I could do much damage to him – though I was sure going to give it a try.   
“[Y/N], I just want to talk.” He stated clearly to me, backing up slightly to show he didn’t want to fight me – as we all knew I was the one that was going to end up hurt most likely.  
“You’ve already spoken.” I spat, “You said all you needed to say. I don’t need any more of your damn lies!”  
“I haven’t lied.” I hated how composed and passive he was being - it just irked me more.   
“Prove it.” I snarled at him.  
“How am I supposed to do that?” He questioned, raising his eyebrows at me.  
“I don’t care.” I barked, “I’m not the one that wants to be listened to!”  
“Don’t you think if I had told the Joker you were alive he would have come and got you himself?” Frost posed at me quickly, still attempting to avoid confrontation.   
I paused in my movements, considering this for a moment, “Maybe I just don’t mean that much him – I’m only a ‘toy’ to him after all.” I pointed out, sourly  
“Only a toy?” Frost repeated back at me, “[Y/N], trust me, you are not just a toy to him.” He insisted.   
“Sure bloody feel like one.” I muttered.  
“Do you think he’d jump into a river after a toy?” Frost asked, “Do you think he’d carry the gun of a ‘toy’ around with him everywhere?! Do you think he paid millions to Penguin for a toy?!”  
I stood sulkily staring at the door frame next to Frost whilst he rattled off at me, but I abruptly shot my head up when he mentioned the money and Penguin, “When did he pay millions for me?!”  
Frost paused, breaking off his tirade to look at me properly, “When he got you out of the contract with Penguin.”  
“What?”  
“Penguin never told you?” I didn’t answer but my blank stare into space could have spoken for me.  
“When was this?” I questioned faintly.  
“About 2 days before you jumped.” He answered almost softly, which would have surprised me had I not be numb from shock.  
I tried to think back to when exactly this had happened. 2 days before I had put my plan into action must have been the day that Penguin had told me he was planning to rent me out. That was the night the Joker had visited my dreams. Had I somehow subconsciously known he was in the building? Was that what caused my nightmare that night? Did it really matter? Either way I was free.  
I had been free the whole time. Penguin had never told me, maybe he had hoped that I would just continue to work for him, never asking about the contract and never attempting to break it – therefore never having to tell me.  
Why hadn’t the Joker sought me out to explain what he’d done? Maybe because you ‘killed’ yourself before he could, chimed in the snide voice in the back of my head.   
But why had he got me out of the contract in the first place? What good did it do him? I couldn’t believe he would do something nice without expecting something from me in return. Was that why he got so annoyed at Penguin when I jumped off the bridge?  
But maybe this was all just another lie from Frost. “You honestly expect me to believe that the Joker would do something out of the kindness of his heart?” I snorted in disbelief.  
“I do believe he expected something from it.”  
“Yeah? Like what?”  
“You.”  
“That’s not even funny.” I sneered.  
“It wasn’t supposed to be.” Frost stated steadily, ignoring my bitter attitude.  
“He doesn’t seriously expect to buy me?!” I exclaimed.  
“I don’t know what he was thinking and I never try to.” He admitted.  
I rolled my eyes at this unhelpful point. “Well if that’s all,” I snapped, “can I please now insist that you leave.” I said moving towards him once more in an attempt to herd him into the hallway.  
He stood his ground so I had to stop before I walked into him. I let out deep sigh of annoyance and tried to curb the desire to stamp my feet like a 3 year old.  
“Frost!” I groaned “Why won’t you just leave me in peace?!”  
“Because, [Y/N]” he started and I thought I noticed a flash of emotion in his eyes, “when I left the Joker I knew there was something seriously wrong. I knew he cared about you but I only realised how much when you left. I was certain the only way to return things to normal was you. But you were dead.  
So when I saw you the other night in the pub you can understand how surprised I was, and - I’m not going to lie - initially I had it in my mind to get you back to Gotham - or at the very least tell him. But, then I saw how you seemed to be doing so well without him and – I guess” He shrugged, grudgingly, “I have slightly grown to like you to and I know how much he tortures and mistreats people and – for some reason - I didn’t want to take you back to that.” He admitted, clearly slightly baffled by everything he was saying, but feeling like he needed to say it anyway. I could feel a lump of emotion forming in my throat again as I listened to his words, my heart beginning to feel raw again.  
“But then we spoke.” He continued, “That’s when I saw it – mainly when we spoke about him. You miss. You’re broken just like he is. You need him. You –“  
“Enough Frost!” I cried smacking my hands repeatedly against his chest. “No! Don’t pretend to know what I’m feeling or what I need! You don’t know me!” Angry tears threatened once again in my eyes and I wished I would stop breaking down in front of him. I let my hands slap against his chest one more time before I just let them remain there, my fingers curling into his black shirt and -without thinking about it - I let my forehead rest between my hands on his solid upper body. He fell silent as I took deep shuddery breaths to fight the sobs that threatened in my throat. I couldn’t deal with this right now. I didn’t want to hear it.  
Eventually I pushed myself off him, wiping my eyes and trying to look him in the face with some dignity, though my vision was blurry. “Please.” I shakily exhaled, “Just leave.”   
He seemed to understand that, in my state, there was no use hanging around trying to convince me otherwise of intentions. He stepped back reluctantly into the hallway and let me pass as I moved in front of him, sniffling as I led the way to the front of the house. When I pulled open the front door he stepped out without a word, but as I went to close it he put his foot in the way. I scowled at his shoe and slammed the door against it several times but he didn’t move or even appear to flinch. “I am honestly only going to say one more thing.” He said, interrupting my assault, and I looked up at his face. He sighed as though it was difficult to say, “This isn’t good for anyone – not you, not him, not Gotham. It’s going to kill one of you – mostly likely him.” I stared at Frost’s honest face with watery eyes, pleading for him to make sense to my chaotic mind. “My point is [Y/N],” he persisted, “don’t be surprised if one day he’s gone. You won’t see him ever again.”  
“I don’t plan on it.” I snarled at him, but the water welling in my eyes diminished the fury in my voice.  
“But at the moment you still have the option.” Frost pointed out logically, seeming to return to his frowning-unemotional self, “There is nothing stopping you from going to him at this very moment, apart from you. Soon that may no longer be possible.” And with that he withdrew his foot and I fell forward, not realising I had been leaning on the door until it began to close after him. I pulled it open but he was already half way across the yard and I no longer knew what I wanted to call out to him.  
Instead I turned around, wiping at my eyes and closed the door behind me. My legs were weak now and I didn’t have seem to have the energy or motivation anymore to move from the spot I stood on. So I pressed my back against the door and allowed my legs to give way beneath me so I sat slumped on the prickly doormat, my head resting on the wood behind me as I stared up at my uneven ceiling.  
What the hell had just happened? Why can’t Frost just leave me alone and stop making me feel so shit? Was what he said true? Did he really think the Joker was doing all of this because he though I was dead? Was it true that the Joker’s death was so imminent now? Was he really being that stupidly reckless? My head spun with questions and I gripped the sides of my head, scrunching my eyes closed, trying to ease the pounding with the pressure my hands.  
Did I care enough for him, miss him enough, love him enough, to save him? If, of course, I was indeed the reason he was doing this? Could I really just hand myself back to the pyscho? I thought opening my eyes once more and letting my hands drop away so they hung loosely in my lap, my head whirling with hopelessness. Would anything have changed or would he be just as cruel, just are malicious as he had been to me before?  
But even if he was, could I just let him die anyway? I thought he’d been dead before and, for some reason – still unknown to me - I had been heartbroken. And, as much as I hadn’t wanted to admit it to him or to myself, Frost was right. I did miss the Joker. A lot. I had tried to fight it but something had snapped in me and I could see it clearly now.  
Damn it. I loved him. I thought closing my eyes in defeat against my own mind.  
I still didn’t understand it. I couldn’t see how I possibly could find anything to love in that man, but I did. There was something there and I was going to have to except it. The question was what did I do about it? Did I live here, safe from him but both of us miserable and me lonely and searching for something I would never find, or did I go back – possibly putting my own self in danger and subjecting myself to a lifetime of manipulation and brutality?   
I let my head fall forwards so my chin lay on my chest, my eyes now open and watching my hands in my lap. Surely I was better off alone; surely Gotham was better off without him? Shouldn’t I deal with the fact that he would die if it meant that all of Gotham was safe from him? Wasn’t that the right thing to do? The greater good and all that?  
But now that I thought of Gotham and its people I could almost slap myself for not thinking of them sooner. Their lives were being destroyed and ruined by this madman – possibly because of me. Sure he might die, but if he didn’t and I didn’t return then he would continue to wreak havoc on innocent lives. I owed it to the city I loved to do what I could to stop the carnage the Joker was causing – even if that meant putting myself back in his firing line.  
I swung my head upright to face forward. Was that it then? Had I decided? Was I going back to Gotham?  
I guess I was. Whether I had decided this because I couldn’t let helpless civilians be killed because of me, or because I couldn’t stand the idea of him dying, I didn’t know or pause long enough to give myself the true answer.  
I was going back to Gotham.   
I pushed myself up to my feet energetically – the confrontation of everything I had been supressing and my new resolve giving me a new sort of energy. I needed to figure out what I had to do now and Frost was the best person to help. How long had I been sat there thinking about all this? How far could he have gotten? I spun on my heel and wrenched open the door - ready to run down the land by my house in search for the henchman - only to find Frost stepping up to my front door, breathing heavily.  
“Frost!” I exclaimed in surprise - and if he noticed my mood change from only a few moments ago he didn’t say anything.  
“[Y/N] – I know I said-“ He started and the look on my face soon wiped away any relief I had upon seeing him.  
“What is it?” I asked in bewilderment, wondering why he was in such disarray and why he looked so worried. Instead of answering he thrust his phone at me. I tried to look around the device at Frost to ask what this was all about, but then I noticed what was on the screen - It was an online news article from the Gotham Gazette.   
The headline read ‘Joke’s Over?’


	30. Chapter 30

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hiya Guys,
> 
> I can’t believe I am on part 30 and I’ve now been writing for over 4 months! Ahhh! I also can’t believe that people are actually liking and enjoying my writing so thank you guys all so much! i really appreciate it more than you can possibly understand!
> 
> Ok anyway here’s the next part, again not 100% happy with it - but I never am! So have it anyway!
> 
> I promise I will put some Joker in the next chapter?
> 
> Anyway enjoy!
> 
> Warnings: Brief mention of suicide

“What is this?” I asked grabbing the phone from Frost’s hand and reading the article - scanning it desperately to find what the headline could possibly mean. There was no main picture with the article, but I knew –from the title alone -it was about the Joker.  
My eyes flickered over the large body of text and some of the words seem to stand out in bold to me – ‘…Joker’, ’ …met his demise’, ‘…suicide’, ‘…death’. Panic began to set into my body, my hands becoming clammy, my breaths shorter, and my heart beat unsteady. “Frost what is this?!” I repeated desperately at the screen, not looking at him as I blinked rapidly at the tears pricking at my eyes and blurring my vision.  
“Read it.” He simply told me and he too seemed to be struggling with what was on the screen. I took a breath to try to get myself under control and focus on the whole article, now taking my time now to actually read the full page. It was dated from an hour earlier and the words swam and danced in front of me till I wiped my eyes with the back of my hand. Finally I could read it, “It’s been two weeks since the Arkham escapee ‘The Joker’ was last seen on the streets of Gotham. It is unknown if this lack of activity is signalling the end of his recent run of crime or if another attack is still in the planning.   
The GCPD has so far refused to confirm or deny whether they or the Batman have apprehended the clown prince of crime, but - in a surprising twist today – reports have begun to circulate that the jesting villain may have met his demise.  
So far no body has been identified but rumours on the streets of Gotham vary- some claiming there was a possible suicide attempt by the well-known psychopath; others claiming it was by the hand of the masked vigilante Batman – but with the clear theme of the psychotic clown’s death.  
There has still yet to be any evidence provided to support any of the theories suggested so far and speculation still remains on the Joker’s current whereabouts. The GCPD -   
I broke off there, my eyes once again blurring too much as the tears slide down my face. I handed Frost back his phone and I peeked at him through the hair that fell across my eyes – trying to see if I could catch any emotions on his face. He seemed low, his frown more sad than grumpy now, but he showed no obvious distraught unlike me. When I fully raised my head and looked at him properly he met my gaze and there seemed almost pity in his eyes – probably for me and the state I had worked myself into - but also what seemed to be concern – concern for the Joker. What had happened? Was he truly dead? Was I too late to make it to Gotham?  
By this point I no longer cared what reason I had given myself to justify returning to Gotham – I could no longer lie to myself that my decision had come from wishing to save innocent civilians who got in his way. Heck, now – if the article was true – they would probably be much safer!  
But I no longer cared about them – and had I ever truly? Every last person could die now for all I cared if it would only ensure he was alive. I was a selfish person, making excuses so that I didn’t feel I was an insane little girl running back into the arms of my tormentor.  
But now I didn’t care anymore.  
I couldn’t lie to myself or anyone else anymore. If there was even a remote chance he was alive I had to know. I had to go to Gotham and find him – dead or alive.  
As I had become lost in my thoughts I didn’t notice how shallow my breathing had gotten, how shaky my hands. I began to become detached from everything around me, my head becoming dizzy and cloudy. I became so numb that I didn’t even notice Frost move towards me and I only vaguely acknowledged my knees giving way beneath me.   
I never felt myself hit the floor.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

When I became conscious once more I was confused.  
I couldn’t recall anything from before – what day was it? Did I have a shift? Did my alarm wake me up? Why wasn’t it still chiming?  
Then memories began to flow back through my mind – was any of that a dream? I could remember talking to Frost at the door, then him appearing in my living room, then him leaving. Snap shots of recollections playing across my eyelids. I could remember opening the door my front door once more to go searching for Frost, but what then –   
The Phone.  
The Article.  
I snapped my eyes open - the bright light from the surrounding windows causing me to squint. As my eyes adjusted I noticed I was in the passenger seat of a large SUV which Frost appeared to be driving down a long stretch of open highway. I blinked some more in the daylight, my eyes still sore and raw from crying earlier, and watched the farmed fields and occasional town sliding past.   
I turned to look across to the driver side where Frost was sat staring straight ahead, both hands gripping the wheel tightly.  
He glanced over at me as I pushed myself more upright, shifting in my seat and groaning as I moved - my neck protested sharply at the change in angle. “Ugh – How long was I out?” I asked, my voice sound croaky from sleep.  
“About an hour.” He replied, keeping his eyes on the road. I didn’t know what to say to that, and so a silence fell between us, the only sound in the car coming from the roar of the engine and road. I sat looking forward, watching the brake lights of vehicles in front of us light up as I came to grips with the situation I found myself in and what had happened before I woke up. Why had I fainted?  
“Frost.” I started cautiously, sensing his tense mood. “What happened?”  
“You had a panic attack.” He informed me, “You blacked out from it.”  
Well that was odd. I hadn’t had a panic attack since I was little – and never one strong enough to knock me out. I could feel my cheeks warming as I thought about poor Frost left alone to deal with a women who had just fainted in front of him. “I’m sorry.” I muttered humiliated, no longer able to look at him.  
“No need to –“ he mumbled uncomfortably and became incoherent over the noise of the road.  
We couldn’t look at each now, both a bit self-conscious or embarrassed about the whole thing. I kept my eyes staring out of the passenger window, acutely aware of how red my cheeks must be. I tried to take my mind off it by looking for an indication of where we were, or a road sign telling me where we might be heading.  
“Frost.” I started once more, trying to break the awkward silence between us. “Are we going to Gotham?” I asked turning back to him.  
He shot a quick look at me to gage how I felt about this before he gave a nod, “Yes.” He confirmed, “And before you start yelling I can explain. I –“  
“It’s alright Frost. Don’t worry about it.” I said, interrupting him before he began another long speech in an attempt to convince me that this was the right thing to do. I watched his eyebrows crinkle in confusion as he continued to watch the road.  
“You’re not mad that I basically abducted you?” he questioned.  
“No.” I said simply like it was no big problem. “I would probably have come anyway.” I admitted, shrugging and looking back out the window. Frost still looked confused and I realised I had never told him about my change in heart about returning to Gotham. “I was going to come find you, by the way.” I clarified, glancing over at his profile, “I changed my mind - I want to go back.”  
Any reactions he had to this sudden revelation he chose to keep hidden under his emotionless mask – though I thought I saw a glimpse of relief in his eyes. He was probably glad that I wasn’t going to put up a struggle, not that there was much I could do in a locked vehicle travelling way over the speed limit down a highway in the middle of nowhere.  
We fell quiet again, but now that the air was cleared between us it felt more relaxed, almost companionable, and I noticed that Frost’s hands had loosened slightly on the steering wheel. I turned back to my window to watch the world fly by - the sun now almost at its highest point in the sky, though partially hidden behind clouds of different shades that lazily floated by reminding me of the never ending questions that drifted in my mind.  
“Uh – Frost?” I said abruptly, getting his attention, “Are we really driving all the way to Gotham?” I knew that would take days - at least 2 days - and that would be without any breaks along the way.  
“No.” He answered, glancing in the rear view mirror and signalling to change lanes, “We’re driving to the nearest airport.”  
“Oh. Ok.” I acknowledged lamely, not sure what else to say and my courage to ask more was failing me. Though I now felt I knew Frost better, he still continued to intimidate me, at some times more than others and I was very aware that he that the upper hand in this situation – being the driver and actually aware of where we were. Though I had yelled and bullied him back at my house on the farm, I was no longer in my comfort zone – in fact I was probably at least 100 miles from my comfort zone – and I knew it. I no longer felt brave or strong and felt almost completely at Frost’s mercy. I didn’t like it one bit.  
To take my mind off these depressing and worrying thoughts I - once again - returned my gaze to the scenery outside my window, took a deep, slightly shaky breath, and considered the reason behind the current state of things.  
There was a good chance the Joker was dead.   
There was also a chance he wasn’t.   
I was in love with the Joker.  
If – upon returning to Gotham city - he was dead I would be heart broken and at a complete loss as to what to do about it.  
If he wasn’t, I would be suddenly confronted with a very much alive and – by the sounds of it – much more psychotic joker. And still at a complete loss as to what to do about it.  
So I was going into this with no plan what so ever.  
I swallowed the lump that was forming in my throat. How were we even going to find him? How did Frost know where he would be? Sure he must know the Joker’s hideouts, but what if they changed? What if he was dead? Where would he be then?  
“Um, Frost?” I inquired, plucking up the courage to question him once more. He nodded slightly to show he was listening, “Uh – What – what are we doing?” I asked, “What’s the plan here?”  
He paused a moment, as if considering the best way to explain it, “We are going back to Gotham to look for the Joker.” He stated matter-of-factly, almost as though I was just another henchman and he was briefing me on our mission.  
“Yes…” I drew out, “But… um, how are we going to find him?” I asked, nervously fiddling with my fingers on my lap.  
“Our best hope is he’s just laying low at the moment.” Frost informed me, “If that’s the case then there are several hideouts he may be at. We need to head to each one and search them.” He explained, keeping his eyes ahead, not looking at me once. “Hopefully we will find him. I we don’t we may at least get an idea of where he’s gone.”  
“How many places are we talking?” I asked, wondering if he was referring to 3 buildings or 50.  
“A lot.” He said simply. I gulped, there goes at least my next week probably – and I wasn’t sure how much time we had left – if any.  
“That’ll take forever.” I pointed out.  
“You got a better idea?” He asked sarcastically, raising one eyebrow and glancing over at me. I thought about it for a bit, turning away from him to watch the white road marks slide by as I thought. There had to be a better way, a quicker, more efficient way to do this. But how was I supposed to know?  
And so I spent the rest of the drive pondering different options to keep my mind from other things.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

At the airport I awkwardly followed Frost around, not really knowing what his plan was to get us on a plane that would leave within the next 30 minutes.  
Somehow – god knows how but I believe it involved a large sum of money – he managed to secure us 2 tickets - both 1st class too, I noted as I glanced at the ticket he handed to me. How much money did this man have?!  
I had never sat in first class before – surprise, surprise – and I felt like an imposter sat in their curtain off area in a plush reclining bed-chair, each with their own private screen. Why did we have to sit in 1st class?! It was like a half an hour flight – barely enough time to have the complimentary drink! I didn’t touch the sparkling water I order, too anxious to enjoy any of the luxuries that lay before me, instead I stared out the round little port hole window at the wispy clouds and blue sky, thinking about everything I would have to deal with when we eventually landed.  
I was still hopeless trying to figure out a way we could find the Joker quicker – but how was I supposed to know what to do? I didn’t know their whole operation or how things ran – how was I going to know if there was a better idea? Sure, if Frost was talking to a henchman at least they would know a bit more about everything that went on – they might actually be able to give a useful sug-.  
“Frost!” I called across the aisle, where he sat reading his phone screen. He looked up at me, frowning and clearly a bit surprised at my sudden wish to talk when I had been completely silent since we’d gotten out of the car. “Do you know any henchman that might have been with the Joker?” I asked hopefully.  
“There were some guys still around when I left. Why?” he asked, crinkling his forehead in confusion.  
“Could you ring any of them?” I inquired excited by my brain wave and not answering his question.  
“I don’t have their numbers.” He informed me, returning his gaze to his phone, “It’s all part of security. No one has anyone numbers – expect the boss - in case anyone is caught and might compromise our operation.” He explained.  
“Oh.” I mumbled, feeling deflated that my idea failed, but I supposed it made sense. “So how do you communicate?” I asked – just generally interested now.  
“Radios.” He said simply without looking up.   
“Ok…” I said, drawing it out as I tried to think of a way to rework my plan, “Do you know where any of them live?” He looked back up - seeming to be intrigued with where I was going with this  
“Yeah. It’s my job to know.” He said matter-of-factly.  
“Well, why don’t we go see a couple of them first?” I proposed, “Ask them if they have any ideas where to try? It might limit the number of sites we have to hit?” I suggested a bit nervously now – self-conscious by his full sudden full interest in what I was saying and worried it was a ridiculous idea – why else wouldn’t he have come up with it?  
He seemed to consider if for a bit – looking for the flaws in my plan. “Yeah. Maybe.” He eventually admitted before once again becoming glued to his phone screen. We remained in silence for the rest of the flight.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I stuck to Frost like glue when we disembarked the plane – not entirely sure what we were going to do next. I followed him as we fought our way through those heading for luggage collection and out into a large main hall. Frost strode forward through the crowd, people parting before him, whilst I followed behind like a second shadow in the space left behind. I watched the people that milled around the large hall - men with briefcases, women in tight pencil skirts and heels, young children with brightly coloured rucksacks and crew members dressed in their varying uniforms.  
Eventually the signs overhead seemed to suggest that Frost was leading me in the direction of taxis, trains, buses and car rentals and I soon found myself stepping out of the elevator into the airport’s multi-storey car park.  
“Wait here.” Frost ordered me as we entered the third floor of parked cars. I frown at his back in confusion at his command as he continued to walk away from me, but did as he said – remaining by the entrance.  
I watched him as he walked down past the row of cars, moving in and out of the small dim spotlights that illuminated small circles of the tarmac floor. He kept turning his head slightly either way as he checked the surroundings, finally stopping side of a SUV similar to what we had previously travelled in, although this one appeared to be a deep blue colour. He moved down the side of the car and stopped so he faced the driver’s door. I couldn’t see what he was doing as his actions hidden by the rows of cars between me and him, but he seemed to be fiddling with something in front him, his arms moving in jerks and tweaks.  
All of a sudden he pulled back and then tried the car door, and I was amazed when it opened. Did he already have the keys for it? Then he slid into the driver’s seat and sat there for a few more moments appearing to now be toying with something in the car. All of a sudden the car’s engine roared and erupted into life. Was he stealing that car?!  
He closed the driver’s door behind him and drove out of the space before pulling up next to me. When I didn’t move from my frozen state on the pavement he leant across the car to push open the passenger door. “Get in.” He grunted curtly at me. I hesitated only for a second before doing as instructed. He quickly accelerated away before I had even closed the door and I gripped my seat tightly to make sure I didn’t fly out of the chair as I heard the tyres screech beneath me.  
When I finally felt secure, the door now closed and my seatbelt finally fastened, I turned to look at his profile as he drove out of the car park. “Did you just steal a car?!” I demanded.  
“Didn’t have time to arrange one.” He said gruffly, not looking at me. When I didn’t say anything he glanced at me and must have noticed the shock still on his face, “Oh come on, you can’t be that surprised.” He muttered, clearly annoyed at how long it was taking for me to adjust to the fact that he was a criminal and therefore did criminal things.  
I shook my head in amazement about how relaxed he was about what he had just done had, but decided there was no point in trying to get him to understand that his actions weren’t actually legal – this was probably not the first time he had done this, and I doubted it would be the last.  
Instead I moved my gaze to the window, watching the different cars that lined us on either side slide past in the pools of artificial light, trying to come to terms with sitting in a stolen car and being yet another accomplice to a crime.  
Eventually we emerged into the light of the day - though there wasn’t much of it.   
Gotham was just exactly as I remembered it, as I gazed out of my tinted window, the same gloomy skies and dirty streets, the same noisy traffic rushing past and people pushing their way through crowds in their thick coats. Home I thought as Frost drove us through the streets, the tall imposing office buildings towering over us. It was home and I had truly missed it - only really realising it now that I was back in the comfort of its familiarity.  
After having drunk in the sights around me I turned back to Frost, “So where are we going?”


	31. Chapter 31

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello guys,
> 
> Ok here is the next part - I apologise it’s very long (over 5,000 words) but I sort of knew where i wanted to stop it and I wrote a bit too much in between! haha
> 
> I also apologise for the quality of writing - I wrote it at about 1am last night so its not great but im sick of reading it over and over as i try to edit it so I’m just going to post and maybe one day I’ll come back and try and fix it!
> 
> At least its readable!
> 
> Hope you guys enjoy anyway! :)

Frost drove us through the streets of Gotham - familiar landmarks flying past us as we sped through the centre and out the other side, heading into the poorer area of the city where I had – wisely - never ventured. If anyone had felt – like most did – that the rest of Gotham was dangerous, then they had no idea about this place. This was place was never safe to be walking around on your own – night or day - especially if you didn’t carry some sort of firearm or knife or a least didn’t know how to one.  
Having never been here I peered out of my window in curiosity and was quite amazed by the sights. Every building appeared to be in some state of disrepair, whether it was broken piping, smashed windows, broken doors or wall literally falling down. We passed bungalows, rows of terraced house and high rising flats, all riddled with graffiti and looked in serious need of TLC - judging by the stained walls and boarded windows. The people that lurked on the streets didn’t help the scenery much either. They seemed to favour forming groups outside the entrances of the more derelict buildings, most of them men that just seemed to scream dangerous - most smoking, some with guns cradled in their arms on alert, others with pistols tucked into their belts.  
I shrunk back into my seat, glad I was in the relative safety of the car and had Frost sat across from me – though I wasn’t sure he could take on the whole neighbourhood. We remained in silence as we drove down the dirty, rundown streets until we eventually pulled up outside one of the bungalows.  
Frost cut the engine and I felt a sudden wave of panic rush through me. What was I supposed to do? Was I expected to follow Frost or did I stay in the car? I hadn’t even thought about this but now it hit me and I had no idea what the protocol was here. Frost didn’t bother to look at me or attempt to explain himself as he opened the door and climbed out.  
I swallowed thickly and tried to battled down my nerves as I reached for my door handle to get out of the car. Just then Frost reappeared in the driver’s doorway, “Stay in the car.” He ordered me and, without checking I had heard or acknowledged his command, he had straightened back up and slammed the door closed. I hastily spun back to my door and - just before he locked the car - I managed to hit the controls on the door and crack the passenger window open slightly.   
I wasn’t going to miss everything just because I was too scared to get out of the damn car.  
I watched as Frost strode up to the shabby looking front door and knocked on it smartly before crossing his arms over his chest. Clearly not everyone in this line of work got paid well, I judged, observing the state of the house before me. The lawn was overgrown, unkempt and lacking in any colour due to the absence of flowers or shrubbery, and the house was in serious need of a new coat of paint to replace the off-white colour that peeled in places, and to cover the lichen that appeared to be crawling up the lower foundations.  
I began to wonder if anyone was home when no one came to the door after a few minutes, but Frost didn’t seem fazed and remained inn place – clearly well aware of the habits of whoever lived there.   
“Marv.” I heard Frost call loudly at the door and knocked on it once more, before stepping back slightly – presumably hearing some sort of response back that I couldn’t. The door then seemed to move inwards as a tall man appeared in a dirty white t-shirt and tracksuit bottoms. His shirt fit him snuggly - the material hugging his chest and showing how well built he was – and his arm muscles became clear and defined as he mimicked Frost’s folded arms.  
“Jesus.” I heard ‘Marv’ breathe, “Frost?” He asked in disbelief at the suited man in front of him. I didn’t hear Frost say anything in return – clearly assuming that his presence was enough of a confirmation for the startled man. “I thought you’d bugger’d off somewhere?”  
“I had.” Frost said simply, “Now I’m back.” Marv stood staring at Frost for a moment, clearly not sure if what he was seeing was true. He then looked past Frost in my direction and I caught his eyes.  
“Who’s that?” He asked nodding in my direction.  
“No one.” Muttered Frost firmly - in a way that seemed to say the man in the doorway better forget he’d ever seen me. I felt a bit hurt by this. No one? I scowled, was I not worth explaining? I mean – who the hell came up with this idea in the first place?!  
I was so annoyed and too busy thinking about some choice words for Frost – had I had the courage to actually say them - that I missed some of their conversation.  
“-eft him now.” I caught Marv telling Frost, now leaning against the doorframe of the neglected house, “’specially when we figur’d you’d jump’d ship.”  
“Any idea where he might be now?” Asked Frost, “Or know one of the lads that might?”  
From where I was sat I couldn’t see much but Marv seemed to be considering this for a few moments, and I thought I noticed him move his jaw slightly in thought as he seemed to stare at a piece of guttering that was hanging down from one of the walls. “You seen Jake?” he asked, turning his eyes back to Frost.  
I thought I saw Frost tense slightly at this. Who was Jake?  
“No one else you can think of?” I could just hear Frost mutter as I strained my ears to pick up his words.  
“He’s the on’y one I can thin’ of tha’s defini’ly still with ‘im.”  
Frost paused for a moment, seeming to consider his options. Eventually he nodded in resignation, “Ok mate, cheers. Take care.” He said turning around and heading back in my direction, though refusing to look at me. Marv watched him as he walked away – clearly wondering what Frost was up to - but he was probably use to being kept in the dark by his superiors and he didn’t bothering asking after Frost’s retreating figure, instead he stepped back into the house and closed the battered door behind him.  
I had been too busy watching Marv that I jumped slightly when the clicking of the car unlocking broke the silence and Frost pulled open the driver’s door. I clutched my chest at the slight surprise, but soon calmed when I realised it was just Frost and turned to him as he slid into the chair next to me. “Who’s Jake?” I asked without hesitation.  
“You know people say it’s rude to eavesdrop.” He muttered, placing the key in the ignition without looking at me.  
“It’s also considered very rude to steal cars.” I pointed out, “I personally think we’re past ‘rudeness’.”  
I noticed him roll his eyes slightly as he started the car up and pull away from the pavement.  
“So who’s Jake?” I pushed with confidence, for some reason no longer fearing the man next to me. Around here he practically felt like a friend.  
“Just another - what you would call - ‘Henchman’”. Frost told me vaguely.  
“Right….” I nodded; resigning myself to the fact he wasn’t going to tell me anything more of his own free will.  
We drove in silence as we both fell into our own thoughts and - though I watched the city fly past me through the tinted windows - I wasn’t paying much attention to where we were going. Instead I was too busy talking myself round in circles about whether what I was doing was for the right thing. Was it really a smart idea to seek out the psychopath that had been a large factor behind me running in the first place?  
It was only as we headed once more out of the city centre and towards the opposite side of Gotham that I began to take notice of where we were.   
I knew this area.  
I knew it all too well and – judging by the twisted and convoluted route that he took the streets – Frost also knew what was around here. What he couldn’t avoid was the fact that I had grown up on these particular streets so knew the how area off-by-heart.  
This meant I was all too aware that 3 streets to our left were the demolished foundations and rubble of my club.  
I was grateful to Frost for trying to avoid the site, but I couldn’t stop the lump in my throat forming at the thought of everything that had been - now in a pile of dust and dirt. I tried to turn my mind back to more immediate things.  
It was weird to think that a henchman of the Joker’s had lived so close to me, but then – I supposed – why shouldn’t he? They were all just normal men really after all – most weren’t the crazy psychopaths that they followed, just working men who happened to have a strong skill in the use of firearms and other weapons and needed the money.   
Who knew how many criminals lived around me without me realising – hell, I may have even met them or played on their street when I was little!  
For some reason these thoughts didn’t worry me. I guess I had survived this long and never had a problem, why should it bother me now? They were probably nice guys when they weren’t helping to rob and murder. Heck Frost seemed an alright guy.  
Just then the man in question pulled over next to familiar block of flats.  
No.  
No. Jake. No. I thought in blind panic. No.  
I turned to Frost with disbelief and hurt in my eyes, “You’re not serious?!” I demanded as I stared out the window at the building I knew all too well – this was definitely the same place.  
“What?” He asked innocently.  
“Who is Jake?” I spat. Frost ignored me as he rummaged for something in the back of the car, the engine still running. I wasn’t having this – I was fed up of all this need-to-know bullshit. I needed to know.  
I grabbed his arm, “Frost!” I warned. He froze and looked down at my tiny hand on his large arms - as if surprised I had made the physical contact with him. I paused then, thinking about what I had just done and regretted it – I didn’t touch him. There was an unspoken rule between us that we didn’t touch – except for the two times I had broken down and lost control. But now I was in full control and still holding onto him - none too gently at that as I felt I fingers digging through the sleeve of his jacket.  
To hell with it! I thought. It was too late now - I was already doing it. I kept my grip – taking all my courage not to chicken out and let go. “Answer me.” I demanded - though my voice was now a bit shaky with uncertainty.  
“’Jake’ is Jake Riggens.” Confessed Frost reluctantly. I let go of his arm and fell back into my seat. I tried to get my head around this as I stared blankly at my lap before I brought my hand up to cover my face in humiliation. Oh God.  
Jake Riggen.  
The ‘Jake’ I had gone to when I had escaped the Joker shortly after blowing up the club.  
“He worked for you the whole time?” I croaked out, turning my head back to Frost who remained sat in the car watching me cautiously– clearly not sure what I would do or how to proceed. He gave a very small nod to my question.   
“I don’t believe it!” I yelled at no one in particular, “I trusted him! All this bloody time he was working for you?! He could have helped to set this all up!” I shouted blindly, mainly talking to myself now. Frost ignored my rambling at the dashboard and cut the engine, sliding out of the car.   
I made to follow him but he had slammed the door and locked the car before I could even reach for the handle. “Frost!” I screamed through the window. “Let me out! Don’t! COME BACK!” I shouted through the passenger window, pounding on the glass and pointlessly pulling at the door handle whilst I watched him stride quickly up to the flats.  
I watched him as he pressed the buzzer for Jake’s flat and waited for a response whilst I continued ot punch the car, yelling as loudly as I could to see if he could still hear me. If he could hear me he completely ignored me. I silently prayed Jake wouldn’t be in so he would have to come back and actually deal with my anger rather than running away like he had. Clearly God wasn’t on my side today at all because soon Frost was bending to talk into the speaker before he was then buzzed into the entrance way.  
I gave one last futile shove on the car door before I gave up with a loud cry and sat slumped on in my chair, cradling my now raw and bruised fists as angry tears trickled down my cheek.  
I shoved them away in annoyance. I couldn’t bloody believe it. You couldn’t trust anyone in this bloody city! Everyone seemed to be out to get someone else! Was there no nice, genuine people left in this entire city?!  
How had I not seen this though? I thought angrily. He’d bloody told me that he use to work for Penguin! I guess at the time I just presumed he meant like his brother, Jack, who had worked on the sound system – not as a henchman!  
When had he been poached from Penguin? Before or after we had been on that one date together? Was that why he had changed? No. It couldn’t be. The Joker didn’t know me at that time – there was no way. It would have just been a coincidence.  
But wait. Was his brother even a sound system guy? Or was he secretly working for the Joker? Did he have anything to do with the Joker’s takeover?!  
I couldn’t believe this. Who could I trust?!  
Clearly no one. I thought bitterly.  
I stared at the dashboard in front of me moodily whilst I waited for Frost to come back. I had shot my head up several times at movement but they had just been over residences entering or leaving the block.  
They were taking a long time. Maybe Frost didn’t want to come back out to deal with me like this.  
I guess it wasn’t really his fault.  
I mean, he was part of it, but he just did what the Joker told him to do. He hadn’t wanted to tell me because he knew it would upset me. He had tried to find out from Marv if there was someone else we could have gone to instead. Maybe I shouldn’t have pushed him to tell me. This wasn’t his fault. This was Jake’s fault. And the Joker’s fault.  
Oh I was going to give that clown a piece of my mind when I found him. I thought angrily, clenching my fists.  
I wasn’t feeling worried about my encounter with the Joker right now.  
Right now - with my fury over yet another of his manipulations – I felt that, had he been standing in front of me right now - I wouldn’t have held back from slapping that damn psycho again.  
He had some serious explaining to do - what with him always managing to find a way to control my every move and somehow convincing me to come back to Gotham when I had finely got away from him! All because his sorry ass might be dead!  
That thought sobered me a bit however.  
As much as I really hated him at the moment - and wouldn’t mind invoking some serious damage on the deranged criminal - the thought that he might be dead still chilled me and made my throat close up.  
I closed my eyes and leant back so my head was against the rest. This was all a mess and I was suddenly very tired . My emotions and thoughts were all confused and everything felt tangled up in my mind.  
There were so many people I wanted to give a piece of my mind – Penguin, Jake, The Joker.  
But not Frost.  
I needed to apologise to him when he came back and not be so snappy. None of this was his fault and so far he’d actually been a huge help.  
As long as it didn’t turn out he betrayed me after all.  
Not that it would surprise me. Everyone else had so far.  
I guess only time would tell and I would just have to run with the fact that he was the closest thing I had to a friend right now.  
And because of the that I would help him with his Joker problem. I would continue to help find the clown – though I didn’t feel I was helping much as hindering at the moment.  
And if he was still alive then I’d let him see that I was fine, then he could leave me alone.  
That was it. No huge reconciliation, no manipulation.  
Somehow I would get out of there.  
I would harness my new anger at the Joker and turn it into the courage I needed to face him and walk away I thought smiling to myself with my new bravery.  
Just then I noticed movement in the corner of my eye and I looked to the entrance to the block of the flats as the door was shoved open to reveal Frost. He seemed to be in quite a rush as he strode quickly to the car.  
He didn’t look at me as he walked around the front of the car, unlocking it and climbing into the driver’s seat.  
“What’s wrong?” I asked, concerned about the intense look on his face and his rush to get into the car. He didn’t respond, still not looking at me and starting the engine instead.  
“Frost!” I cried, grabbing his lower arm once again to get him to pay attention to me. “What’s going on?!” I demanded.  
He didn’t hesitate at my touch this time, shrugging my hand off easily, “We need to go.” He told me before accelerating quickly away from the curb.  
“What’s going?!” I asked starting to panic now - any bravery I had been feeling melting away with the worst case scenarios flying through my head, “Do you know where he is?” His briskness and the fact we seemed to be doing double the speed limit was only adding to my worry.  
“Maybe.”  
“Maybe?!” I asked incredulously.  
“I have the freshest source of information.” He informed me, as if that was supposed to provide me some sort of comfort.  
“Ugh.” I groaned in exasperation, throwing myself back in the seat from where I had leant forward in my alarm. Still no straight answer.  
Frost ignored my mood, concentrating instead on the road as he drove us back into the centre of Gotham for the third time that day. This time we headed past the docks, the old warehouses bordered up and some surrounded in scaffolding where new construction had started but fallen through. I wondered how many people had hideouts along here – were we heading to one of them? I desperately searched each with eyes looking for clues to where we were going that I knew didn’t exist.  
Frost continued to drive, passing all of them and answering my question as we moved away from the abandoned buildings. Up ahead loomed something that made my blood run cold. We were heading for the South Bridge.  
Frost didn’t look at me but I thought I noticed his grip tighten on the steering wheel as we crossed it. I too could feel myself tense as we pasted the spot I had jumped from. It was weird to be back – I had told myself I never would but yet here I was. About to confront one of the main reasons I had promised never to return to Gotham.  
Once we had crossed the bridge I felt I could breathe freely again, though my heart never calmed, instead my gut was now clenched in nerves of where we were going and what was going to happen.  
We drove into the outskirts of Gotham and I almost thought that Frost was attempting to leave the city altogether as we drove into the higher priced areas. Soon the houses and the spaces between them became larger - gardens sprouting up, each pristine and soon becoming the size of small fields. The streets here were cleaner - no graffiti or chewing gum speckled pavements in sight. I had never been here before and I had to wonder if we were truly still in Gotham. It looked like a whole other world.  
Frost finally pulled up outside a mansion that almost seemed to sit on its own. It looked almost the same as the others except for the slightly darker colour of paint and a few architectural differences that I could only notice when looking closely.  
“You’re kidding right?” I snorted, laughing in shock. “This is a hideout?!”  
“No.” Corrected Frost, “This is his house.”  
“What?!” I asked in disbelief, glancing quickly at Frost before I turned back to gawk at the house. I looked out over the lawn, its edges lined with neat hedges expect for the front where the grass was open to the road. The whole garden looked immaculate except for some odd tire marks that were gouged into the centre of the green on the right side of the house. I frowned at the imperfections in confusion. Why were they there?  
“He rarely ever comes here.” Admitted Frost, bringing my attention back from the grass, “But he does own it.” He told me as he killed the engine and climbed out of the car once more. I gulped. This was it. I was going to go find him. No turning back.  
I could feel my hands becoming shaky and my nerves twisting in my abdomen. I was desperately trying to find some of that kickass bravery I had in the car back outside the flats.  
I can do this, I thought to myself sternly. I took a deep breath and pushed the door open. Frost was already at my side of the car and he grabbing the top of the door to hold it open for me. I shot him a small smile of thanks before I clambered out, my legs a bit unsteady.  
It felt good to finally be out of the car but the thought of what I had to do now didn’t leave me. I stood awkwardly waiting as Frost shut the door behind me and locked the car.   
I wasn’t sure what we were supposed to do now. Did Frost have a key to the house? Was he sure the Joker was in there? I thought staring up at the towering house.  
I followed Frost like a puppy to the large front door and it turned out Frost didn’t need keys as he simply turned the handle and pushed the door open slowly, but not before I noticed his hand travel into his pocket and pull out a pistol. He held it up as he edged into the house, pointing it ahead of him around the side of the door. I pressed slightly closer to him, not wanting to be left behind unarmed and unprotected.  
We entered a large empty hallway, the floor made of smooth white marble, but that wasn’t what caught my eye and cause me to stifle a gasp.  
Originally this house must have been decorated to match all the others around this area, but now it couldn’t have looked any different.  
The walls were covered in black marker and red, purple and green paint. A few snatches of the original golden wallpaper could be seen here and there but most of the walls were covered in scribbles and drawings - all depicting variations on the same theme of ‘HAHA’s, grinning faces, jester hats, J’s, bats and playing cards. The wall were also littered with black specks that I soon realised were bullet holes. Some were arranged so they formed a smile, others were just random holes in the wall, no rhyme or reason to them.  
There was a large staircase on the left hand side of the room which led up to the back wall before it turned back on itself to lead further upwards. The back wall on the ground floor - to the right of the stairs, and straight in front of me - was full of what I now recognised to be knives. They all stuck out at various angles and I could imagine the Joker walking through the front door and throwing one straight down the hall so they embedded on the opposite wall, their hilts pointing out.  
I couldn’t take my eyes off the walls - the whole hallway spelt insanity and I feared what the rest of the house looked like. Frost stepped around the entrance room quietly and carefully - checking each room that led off - his pistol constantly aimed in front of him whilst I waited nervously by the doorway, afraid to move any further. This whole place unsettled me.  
Eventually he moved back into the centre of the marble floor and lowered his pistol, noticeably relaxing. “He’s not down here, but neither is anyone else.” He informed me. I nodded mutely, too paralysed by my nerves to do much else.  
He seemed to notice I was struggling and glanced around him before he gestured for me to follow as he led me into the first door on the right of the hallway. It opened up to what I believe was the drawing room at the front of the house, the large window overlooking the garden and road outside.  
This room appeared untouched by the Joker, everything seeming to be of original design – no new artwork added to the walls or the ceiling, and the furniture neatly arranged. It was also all covered in a layer of dust. Frost turned around to face me. “Wait here. I’ll search the rest of the house for him.” He told me. I nodded silently again but didn’t like the idea of being left on my own in this huge house – especially when he seemed to think it required carrying a weapon around.  
He must have noticed me glance down at his gun because he lifted it up, twisting it nonchalantly as if it wasn’t much, “Don’t worry about this – it’s just a precaution - just in case he’s a bit surprised to have a visitor.” He must have noticed this didn’t comfort me much because he quickly added, “Don’t worry, he never comes in this room - as you can tell.” He gestured around us, smirking slightly, at the faded chairs and dust that had flown in the air by us just walking in, now catching in the light that flowed through the tall window.  
Again I nodded, but was still not particularly convinced. “Y/N, it’ll be fine. I’ll close the door. He’ll think it’s just me. Trust me, you’ll hear him coming – then you just need to hide.” He gestured to the hiding spots available around the room. I nodded a bit more confidently this time.  
“Frost.” I croaked as he moved out the door, “Be careful.” I mumbled. He gave me a soldier’s nod, holding up his pistol before him, and stepped out, closing the door behind him.  
When I heard the click of the door I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding.  
I turned to face the rest of the room. It was exactly as I thought any of the other mansions in the area would have looked like, the ornate wallpaper, plush carpet, accent rug by a small fire place and cushiony wing back armchairs arranged around it. I wondered why he never came in here – but then how many rooms could one man need if he lived here alone.   
The only thing that might have told me someone may have once been in this room was a decanter full of an amber liquid on the coffee table between the two chairs. Even then, however, it seemed to be more for show – two glasses arranged perfectly next to the bottle – one for each chair.  
I wandered over to admire the elaborately cut crystal tumblers which matched the decanter behind them. A drink might be just what I need, I thought – to calm the nerves – I picked the glasses up gently, tilting them to catch the light from the tall front window and noticed how each was lined with a thick layer of grime. How hygienic, I though sarcastically, putting the glass back down before eying up the alcohol once more.  
To hell with it I thought, it wasn’t like anyone used it! I grabbed the neck of the decanter and popped the lid, taking a large swig. “Ah.” I coughed as the drink burned my throat, eventually hitting my stomach and warming me. That may have been a bit of larger drink then I meant to take but maybe it would help to release some of the anxiety worming its way in my abdomen.  
I kept the carafe in my hand and observed the rest of the room, my eyes finally falling on the piano that stood under the window at the end of the room, nestled between the thick curtains.  
I stepped my way over to it, my footsteps slow and cautious in case of creaking floorboards that might give away my position. It was made of dark wood that suited the rest of the room, and looked smooth and polished - almost brand new if it hadn’t been for a few nicks and dents I noticed throughout the main body.  
I pulled out the small stool that lay tucked neatly under it, making sure I lifted it up instead of dragging - even though I was such the dense carpet would have muffled any noise it made. I perched lightly on the faded cushion that padded the top, still holding the alcohol - keeping one ear out for any noise from above me or out in the hall - and stared in awe at the beautiful instrument.  
I absent-mindedly took another swig from my open decanter - this time cringing slightly less at the scalding on the back of my throat – and laid a tentative hand on the wooden fallboard, hesitating slightly before I pushed it open – revealing the keys beneath.  
They were slightly discoloured from age and I ran my fingers over then, tracing their outlines as I wondered if it was tuned. I took yet another swig of the amber juice – this time not even reacting to the sting as I swallowed.  
If I played quietly would anyone hear? I wondered, my head feeling a bit heavy now and I was slightly regretting having the drinks, but that didn’t stop me from bring it to my lips once more – I was starting to like the taste and it was just convenient sat in my hand.  
The house was old – surely the walls were thick? And that meant the floorboards too right? I sat there considering it for a bit as I ran my hand up and down the piano. If I pressed really lightly surely it wouldn’t be that loud? My mind seemed to have forgotten how loud a piano could be and my ears seemed to be ringing slightly anyway.   
YOLO I silently giggled to myself, lightly pressing down on one of the keys. The chime that rang out was beautiful to my drunken ears, slightly out of tune, but not terrible for something that was never used.  
I hadn’t played in a long time and I couldn’t remember many songs off the top of my head, especially when my mind was becoming cloudier by the second thanks to my liquid friend. I did remember a few basics however, and I balanced the carafe on the top of the piano before I returned my attention back to the white teeth. I began to lightly press a few keys, soon finding my fingers flowing like the alcohol in my system and I had begun to play ‘Make You Feel My Love by Adele.  
After running through the main chords a few times I began to sing quietly to myself,  
“When the rain is blowing in your face  
And the whole world is on your case  
I could offer you a warm embrace  
To make you feel my love…”  
I took one hand away from the instrument, grabbing the decanter and taking another swig before concentrating on the music once more. I didn’t realise I began to push more firmly and confidently on the keys, no longer whispering the words to myself as I swayed slightly to the tune.  
“I know you haven’t made your mind up yet  
But I would never do you wrong  
Ive known it from the moment that we met  
No doubt in my mind where you belong…”  
I didn’t hear the muffled shout or the dull thump from upstairs - too engrossed in the song and the alcohol intoxication.   
“I’d go hungry  
I’d go black and blue  
I’d go crawling down the avenue,  
No there’s nothing I wouldn’t do,  
To make you feel my love..”  
I dragged out the last note in my inebriated state.  
“My, my… What a deadly voice.” Drawled someone behind me.


	32. Chapter 32

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys,
> 
> Here’s the next bit - I’ll apologise for any poor writing as I wrote most of this at 2am last night.
> 
> Again, its another long one - I just get a bit carried away with details etc. Sorry it’s not really a ‘fanfic’ as such anymore - more like a novel - I hope that’s alright - I know some people don’t like that thing on here and they want it more brief.
> 
> Maybe I’ll try to do that again on my next story.
> 
> Let me know what you think!
> 
> Hope you enjoy! :)

I froze when I heard his voice, my stomach dropping to my feet and I felt myself sobering up almost immediately.  
Well that answered the question if he was alive or not.  
“It’s odd.” The Joker sneered behind me and I twisted in my seat to look at him, “I don’t remember drinking that much.” He was exactly as I remembered him stood there. But this was more of him then I’d ever seen. He was wearing some low-riding sweatpants and that was it. His feet were bare and so was his entire torso apart from the tattoos littered across his skin. I swallowed thickly as admired his bleached skin and defined muscles, completely ignoring his words.  
“You don’t usually sing for me either.” He contemplated to himself, “Must be a different type of drink tonight.”  
Wait. What was he on about? Was he raving? I didn’t say anything too confused about what he was rambling on about and too paralysed by the fear – a deer caught in the headlights. Where was Frost?!  
“Come on my little bird, sing for meeeeee!” he sneered before a demonic smile split his face and he let out a high, harsh cackle. I couldn’t move, his eyes and laughter pinning me in my half twisted position. I could feel my muscles aching and screaming for release from the prolonged uncomfortable position but I was petrified in place by him and was too scared of how he might react if I moved. Where was Frost?!  
“PLLLLEEEEAAASSSSEEE!” He screeched at me, his teeth gritted together and his grin spreading even wider as he bowed forward at his waist, trying to invade as much of my personal space as possible without moving from he stood. He then abruptly swung himself backwards as he erupted into humourless chuckles.  
I flinched at his sudden movements and loud roar of laughter. Was he drunk? Or was this what he was like now?! Oh God what had I done? Why hadn’t I been paying attention to what was going on around me? Frost said I would have been able to hear him, and then I could have hidden! I silently cursed myself - why had I drunk so much?! At the time the alcohol had truly seemed to help – it definitely calmed me – but it had worked too well and I had stopped caring about anything – including how much bloody noise a piano made!  
Wait. The piano. The decanter was still on it.  
Whilst the Joker was in his manic hysterics I slowly reached my left arm blindly behind me – attempting to not move the rest of my body in the process - until I came into contact with the top of the piano. I ran my hand cautiously along the rim of the instrument - all the time trying not to draw attention to myself with any excess movement that might snap the inebriated Joker out of his laughing fit.  
Eventually my hand knocked against the glass body of the decanter and I slid my hand up and around the neck before carefully lifting it up moving it to my side so it was hidden behind my body. When I had it held securely to my side – and without taking my eyes off the Joker - I stood up as smoothly and confidently as I could. I didn’t want him to see that he was getting to me. I didn’t want to show him weakness. He would feed off of it.  
He abruptly stopped laughing at my movement and pulled himself back up straight, facing me head on, “Whatcha got there doll?” he asked tilting his head and widening his eyes slightly at my hand that grasped the ornate bottle just out of sight behind my body. I didn’t say anything, only clutching the decanter tighter to my body as if it was my only lifeline – which it might be. Where was Frost?!   
“Come on.” He urged patronisingly, holding out his hand to me like I was a cat he was trying to encourage closer. “Come on, come on, come on, come on…” he persisted, squinting his eyes as he grinned wide and menacing at me.  
I could move, couldn’t speak. I wasn’t sure what my plan was anymore. How should I react, what should I do? Where was Frost?! “…come on, come ON doll!” He growled in frustration, his temper snapping slightly as he tried to restrain himself. “You’re usually so good…” he purred. When had I ever been ‘good’ around him? “Awww Doll... You’re breaking my heart” he whined, pouting his lips and pulling his outstretched hand back, placing it over his chest.  
“You never use to know where that was.” I suddenly snapped, surprising myself at the outburst but trying not to show it as I glared at him.   
Why on Earth did I say that?! What was wrong with me – did I somehow think it was smart to rile up the insane clown in front of me? Oh God, where was Frost?!  
“Oooooo….” He leered, widening his eyes and pulling his head back in mocking shock, “Kitten’s got her claws back!” He cried in glee, giggling, “I missed this side of you doll – you’ve been too nice lately.” What was he talking about? When was I ever nice around him? Where was Frost?!  
“But Doll, as much as I like you feisty...” he drawled, “I’m gonna have to asked you one more time – what do you have there?”  
“A weapon if needs be.” I stated fiercely, not being fooled by his ‘sweet talk’.  
“Now what would you need one of those for my dear?” He questioned innocently, taking a step toward me.  
“Where’s Frost?” I asked impulsively, unnerved by his gentleness but standing my ground as he moved closer, refusing to yield no matter how much of my personal space he invaded.  
“Now, now.” He tut-tutted, shaking his finger in front of my face, “That’s not the answer to my question is it?”  
I didn’t say anything but stared at him stonily. “You are rather wilful tonight aren’t you kitten?” he asked, watching me with interest as though I intrigued him.  
“Where’s Frost?” I bit out again determinedly, clutching the decanter even tighter in my hand – I wasn’t afraid to use it as a weapon if I needed to.  
“There you go again!” He exclaimed gesturing wildly with one arm as he spun on his heel and strode back away from me, “Why does he suddenly mean so much to you, hmm doll? You’ve never bothered to mention him before!”  
I furrowed my brow at him, confused what he was going on about. “You know doll,” he paused, his back still to me, now tilting his head so he looked diagonally upwards, “I’m starting to get bored of this now.” He mused at the ceiling, “I think I preferred you the way you were last night...” He suddenly spun back around so he faced me once more, “Silent.” He declared, the rictus back on his face and – somehow - a blade in his hand.  
I recoiled, eying the knife in his hand in panic, no longer sure what I should be watching – him or the blade. I raised my own ‘weapon’ slightly, ready to smash it when needed.  
“Not to worry doll,” he comforted, “Like I keep telling you every night – you’re only a dream. It won’t hurt.” He purred, stepping ever closer to me, tossing the knife in his hand.   
Did he think I was a dream? A hallucination?  
“I’m not a dream!” I cried desperately, with no hope that it would be enough to convince him and so raising the decanter further as a warning. “Where’s Frost?!” I demanded - he was the only one that was going to help me now.  
“You and the snowman got a thing or something?” Joker sneered, tilting his head to the side once more as he advanced back towards me with predatory steps, “Now that’s a reason to hurt you even more…” he rumbled in pleasure.   
He now stopped very close to me, barely a foot away and I was very aware that he could easily bring the knife forward into my abdomen at any moment. Yet I couldn’t bring myself to use the one defence I had, instead it hung uselessly in my hand.  
He seemed to read my thoughts - or maybe he noticed a twitch in my hand holding the decanter - because he suddenly pitched forward and I flinched, screwing my eye tightly shut as I waited to feel the pain hit me.  
When I felt nothing I slowly peeled my eyes open, afraid of what I might see. We were now nose to nose and my entire vision was filled with his face, his bright eyes drawing my own. I noticed his brow crinkle with his grin and then I heard a clinking noise to my left. Without moving my head I glanced quickly out of the corner of my eye to see him tapping the decanter in my hand with the edge of his blade. I quickly returned my eyes to his and his gaze hadn’t left my face.  
“Although…” He muttered to himself, staring so intently into my eyes that I could feel my cheeks becoming red and I had the overwhelming need to pull back or look away from his burning glare. He growled a warning as if he knew what I was thinking and I so I didn’t dare to try to look away. “Although…” he repeated, now bringing the knife to my face and resting the edge lightly on my cheek, “I could always show you what you’re missing…” He purred, caressing my skin with the metal. He was so close to me I could almost feel him vibrating with the noise and his warm breath blew across my face. I shivered at the sensation.  
Then his lips were on mine.  
It was a shocking contrast to the cold metal on my cheek, his lips hot and firm against mine and I closed my eyes at the bliss that washed over me. Any thoughts I had only lasted a few seconds before the kiss became more intense and my mind was wiped completely clear. I barely noticed him take the decanter out of my hand and I vaguely acknowledged my hands drop limply to my sides - too caught up in his mouth and his other hand which ran up my neck to the back of my head, tangling in my hair and forcing me harder against him.  
He bit at my lower lip and I couldn’t help but gasp at this, and he soon made the most of the opportunity, deepening the kiss and I was happy to copy..  
I soon forgot how to breathe and it didn’t take long for me to become light headed, but I didn’t want it to end. I missed this. Whatever it was. I brought my hands to his waist, just above the band of his sweatpants, gripping his hips and holding him tightly. I didn’t want to lose him again - contrary to the fact there was a weapon pressed into my face – it was the safest I had felt in a very long time.  
I didn’t want to be the one to break it off.  
I don’t know how long we stood there, lost in each other. In the back of my mind I vaguely heard a noise, but was too dissociated to really acknowledge it. However it seemed to bring the Joker to his senses and he abruptly pulled back, cold air suddenly hitting my lips, my hands now empty and limp by my side. I opened my eyes in surprise at the sudden loss of contact only to I was stood alone in the room.  
I wished he’d stop doing that. He was giving me whiplash.  
I wasn’t sure how long I stood there numbly - lightly out of breath and my head still hazy – before I heard someone calling my name from the stairs and then the entrance hall, before Frost finally burst through the doorway. “[Y/N]?!” He called, rushing over to me, breathless. I snapped out of my stupor when I saw him, blinking rapidly as he looked me up and down, taking in my dishevelled hair, redden lips and shell-shocked appearance.  
Frost, however, looked much worse for wear. The sleeves and shoulders were torn on his suit jacket and it hung open to reveal his white shirt which was now creased, ripped and stained with blood. Then I noticed the source of the blood – a long gash on his neck.  
“My God…” I breathed, my eyes widening at the large wound, “Frost, what happened to you?!” I cried, suddenly breaking out of whatever had held me and rushing towards him, barely acknowledging my stumbling or heavy legs from shock and the lingering alcohol.  
Before I knew it I was basically pressed up against him, “Let me look.” I said with concerned, grabbed the side of his neck which was not seeping blood and pulling him down to my height so I could inspect the wound. He visibly winced at my careless manipulation and grimaced in apology, “Sorry.” I muttered gently, lightening my touch on his skin as I turned his neck further around so the wound was in now more in my line of sight.  
I inspected the wound with my ignorant eyes - not entirely sure what I was doing. I could tell it wasn’t too deep and it was a relatively clean cut, though it had bled quite a lot and still appeared to be oozing sluggishly. “Maybe you ought to lie down.” I suggested, stepping back a bit, now acutely aware how inappropriately close I had been to him. He made to nod at my suggestion but soon regretted it, his eyes screwed shut in pain as he tried to straighten his neck once more. I bit my lip and made a sympathetic face at his pain.  
He stood still until his pain subsided enough that he could relax his contorted expression, and then made his way to couch that sat under the other, smaller window on the wall opposite the door. I watched his back as he moved and I noticed how the blood had soaked his collar and left a darker stain on his already black suit. Oddly though, I noted, his hair seemed to have clumped on the back of his head. Why was their blood that high up? “Uh, Frost...” I started and he paused, turning his whole body to face me to limit the movement in his neck. I moved towards him, reaching once more for his head, “Why is there blood in your hair?”  
“Well, when I woke up I was on the floor.” He exclaimed, his teeth clenched in pain, “Maybe it just pooled there.” I didn’t ask about why he had woken up on the floor, too intrigued by the blood in his hair. I moved behind him, examining the bloodied mat amongst the rest of his messy hair. It was soaked in blood and I stood on my tiptoes as I moved the hair to the side, feeling a small pool of liquid beneath my fingertips. When I had parted his hair enough to see his scalp I was saw yet another wound - this one slightly deeper – between my fingertips. I inhaled sharply at the sight and he flinched under the pressure of my touch - probably immediately regretted it as he inhaled sharply from the pain in his neck. “What is it?!” He demanded, impatient and probably annoyed he couldn’t use his neck to turn to me.  
“You have quite a nasty gash on the back of your head too.” I told him, moving back round so I was in front of him once more. “I really think you need to lie down.” I insisted, digging through my head for any first aid I knew, “You must have lost a heck of a lot of blood.” He grimaced at this thought and continued to move to the couch, lying down gingerly. He held his breath as his neck and head made contact with the sofa, scrunching his eyes at the stinging before his face relaxed, though he kept his eyes closed.  
I glanced around the room, desperately thinking of what to do. I needed to stop the bleeding somehow. I needed a bandage. Did this house have a first aid kit? It might do, but I didn’t want to leave the room in case the Joker was lurking around still. He was the last person I wanted to bump into at the moment. I have enough to cope with right now what with Frost bleeding out in front of me.  
I was just going to have to be resourceful.  
I searched the room for a throw or something to use before my eyes landed on the lavish curtains that hung behind the piano. Bingo.  
I moved over to them and picked the heavy material up. How the hell was this going to work? I needed to cut it into pieces somehow. I pulled hopelessly at it, but it was way too thick for me to tear. I returned my eyes to the room once more in search for something - anything - that might help me.  
Then I noticed it, slightly hidden beneath the piano. It was the Joker’s switchblade. He must have thrown it to the side when he left. I knelt down and grabbed it before rushing back over to the window. I worked the blade against the fabric, making no indent initially, but eventually the fabric began to fray and I finally began to make progress. After I felt like I had cut deep enough I gather either side in my fists and pulled tightly, creating tension and grinning to myself in triumph as the drapes tore with a satisfy rip.  
I used the knife to cut the last resistant edge before I successfully held up my provisional bandage. I hurried back to Frost, pausing when I noticed his eyes were still closed. Was he asleep? Had he passed out? “Uh… Frost?” I asked quietly, “Frost?” I asked a bit louder. He opened his eye, obviously not trying to move anything else. “Um, I have this,” I said, holding up my ribbon of curtain, “Thought it might work as a temporary bandage.” I explained. He looked surprised at the material in my hand but tentatively worked his way back up to a sitting position. He took the piece of curtain from me and raised his arms up to his neck but ended up stopping halfway, hissing at the pain that the movement caused as his muscles contracted. I grimaced in sympathy, trying to think how to help, “Uh, do you want me to do it?” I asked awkwardly, holding my hands out. He looked at me for a moment, seeming to consider his options before he reluctantly handed me back the fabric. I gave him a small forced smile and stepped closer once more, taking a deep breath to try to steady my shaking hands. I really didn’t want to hurt him. I carefully laid it against the wound, glad to see the blood seemed to have thickened and begun to clot. He didn’t move at the pressure but I noticed him tense and his jaw clench against the pain. I swallowed my nerves before gradually wrapping the rest of the material around his neck. I didn’t want to pull it too tight – I didn’t want to hurt him too much, plus I still wanted him to breathe - “Is that alright?” I asked warily.  
“Yeah.” Gasped out Frost, and – though I knew he was in pain – I also knew he would endure it without complaint if he thought it would help. I grudgingly accept that I had to cause him the pain and arranged the material so it held. I didn’t know how long it was going to stay like that, but it would have to do for now.   
“There we go.” I declared, stepping back from my handiwork. “You lie back down and I’ll see what I can do about the head wound.” He did what I instructed without argument and I had to wonder if the blood loss was finally hitting him.  
I headed back to the curtains and cut another strip with the knife before flicking the blade shut and stuffing it into my trouser pocket – just in case I needed it again.  
I returned to Frost who was watching me this time. I held up my second piece of fabric, “I don’t think this is really going to work as a bandage, judging by the position of the wound…” I explained, thinking through alternatives. “I think if I just fold it up you could lie back on it and that might be just as I effective.” I suggested, doubling the material over. I moved closer to the couch, “Just try to roll over a bit.” I directed. He did as I said, his face contorting against the stinging. I noticed there was already a bloody patch on the cushion and I placed my folded square over the mark. “Ok.” I signalled and he rolled back. “Perfect.” I muttered to myself, stepping back. That was the best I could do for now. “Uh… Maybe wait here till you’re feeling better? Then we can try to move you to the car? Then I’ll get you to a hospital.” I proposed. He didn’t say anything, just closed his eyes, so I took this as a yes.  
I turned around, searching the room with my eyes again as I tried to figure out what to do next. I wasn’t sure what else I could do at the moment so I grabbed one of the wingback chairs and spun it slightly so I could sit and face Frost. I perched on the edge of the seat, my nerves making it difficult for me to sit still, adrenaline still pacing though my body.  
Now I had done what I could for Frost the whole situation seemed to hit me. I was in the Jokers house. He was alive. He had been here. He had threatened me with a knife. Then he had kissed me. Now he was gone.  
Was he still in the house? Why had he left so abruptly? I stared blankly into space as I thought things threw.   
“What happened to you?” Frost croaked, jerking me out of my contemplations. I glanced back over to him and saw his darks eyes now open and watching me.  
“Huh? Oh-uh.” I tried to think the best way to explain and felt my cheeks turn red. “I uh – I was a bit stupid.” Frost didn’t say anything to this but kept his eyes on me, waiting for me to continue. So I explained what had happened, how I had got drunk – strongly defending that it was to calm myself – before explaining my interaction with the Joker.  
“That’s why your cheek’s bleeding?” He asked, not mentioning my idiotic actions – which I was grateful for. I frowned at him in confusion. Was I bleeding? I brought my hand to my cheek and - sure enough - I could feel a pronounced line running down my left cheek and dry blood under my fingers.  
“Uh – yeah I guess.” I said, “What about you? What happened?” I asked, gesturing to his condition as he led on the sofa.  
“He jumped me upstairs.” Frost said stiffly, talking through the pain, “Didn’t see him coming.” He admitted, “Came at me with a knife. Then eventually threw me into a wall.” He bit out through clenched teeth, “When I opened my eyes he was gone. So I came looking for you.”  
I nodded in understanding and then we fell into silence. I let Frost rest for a few minutes whilst my mind wandered once more. I couldn’t relax whilst we were still in this house and I knew the Joker could enter at any moment. Finally I broke the peace that had fallen over us, “Frost – do you think you’d be ok to move now?” His eyes shot open at his name “Only I’m not sure how safe we are here.” I admitted. He seemed to consider this for a moment.  
“Just leave me here, I can sort myself out.”  
“No” I snapped defiantly. “You can’t ‘sort yourself out’” I quoted back at him, annoyed, “You need a hospital.” He slowly pushed himself up into a sitting position and my eyes fell on the square of curtain-bandage that remained on the sofa - noting that it had quickly become sodden in blood.  
“Do you really think I can just walk into a hospital?” He asked, clearly slightly amused at the idea. “I’m sort of a criminal.” He stated.  
“Fine. But I’m not leaving you here like this!” I exclaimed, quickly trying to think of a better option, “You must have a place you can go. Just tell me where to take you.”  
He looked at me, annoyed by my stubbornness, but didn’t bother to fight with me – clearly just wanting to get whatever it was over and done with. “Alright.” He conceded, “Just get me back to Marv’s, he knows what to do.”  
I nodded at this, throwing myself onto my feet - glad I had a job once more. “Ok, how are we going to do this?” I asked stood awkwardly before him, not sure what the best thing to do was. Frost slowly pushed himself to his feet and I was worried about how much blood loss he had sustained. He also seemed concerned and took a few hesitant steps, clearly happy with how they went and seemed confident to proceed.  
I dodged past him and grabbed the blood-soaked rag that had been my makeshift head bandage, “For in the car.” I explained when he looked at me confused. He rolled his eyes, clearly annoyed at my mothering.  
He made his way out of the room, careful with his movements so as not to move his head too much, but I noticed he reached into his jacket and pulled out his gun as he had earlier. I followed suit and dug into my trouser pocket, pulling out the Joker’s blade that I had stashed there. I flicked it out and held it out in front of me as I followed behind Frost.  
There was no need for the weapons however as there was no sign of the Joker in small part of the house we passed through. Once we were out the front door we swiftly moved across the pristine lawn to the SUV still waiting for us on the road. The keys were already in Frost’s hand and he unlocked the it, making for the driver’s side. “Oooooh no!” I called at him, “There is nooo way I am letting you drive!”  
“What?” He asked in surprise at my sudden outburst.  
I frowned at him in annoyance, “You. Are. Not. Driving!” I snapped, loudly emphasising each word. When he still didn’t hand over the keys I stormed up to him with steely eyes, “You, “ I pointed at him, “are currently suffering from large blood loss, you’re unbalanced, dizzy and probably have a concussion!” I cried in frustration at his stubbornness before sticking my hand out to him, palm up, waiting.  
He huffed loudly in annoyance, rolling his eyes once more and reluctantly dropped the keys into my out-stretched hand. I gave him a forced sweet smile, “Thanks!” I sang, abruptly turning and climbing into the driver’s seat. I heard him mumble something before he marched around to the other side of the car. I smirked at my victory as I adjusted the seat and mirrors. He slid in next to me, eyeing me with concern. “I can drive you know.” I told him in an attempt to reassure him.  
“We’ll see.” He muttered before turning away from me and positioning himself so he looked out the passenger side window. I frowned at him in annoyance at his lack of trust in any of my abilities.  
“It’ll be fiiiiiine!” I drawled, rolling my eyes away from him and onto the wheel in front of me, and starting the engine.


	33. Chapter 33

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heya!
> 
> Next bits ready - i apologise now - I have no idea what i was doing when I wrote this and I feel like I went off on a bit of a tangent! haha It got a bit dark towards the end!
> 
> I am really sorry this fan fiction has been seriously lacking with Joker - he will be back next chapter i promise and I will make sure future writing series will have much more of him in it - this is my first one so I got a bit carried away with just my general writing!
> 
> ALSO - sorry its soooooo long again - got carried away!
> 
> Anyway - hope you enjoy

We drove in silence except for the occasional direction from Frost which was hissed out through his clenched teeth, which were bared against the pain in his neck as he kept the wound on his scalp pressed against the sodden bandage on the head rest behind him. I tried to avoid any pot holes and raised pieces of roads to prevent jolting Frost too much, but even so I could still hear the sharp gasps every now and then that he tried to stifle and I cringed in apology.  
Several times throughout the journey I had to double check my mirrors, convinced I had caught flashes of purple behind me or in the street across from at crossroads.   
Maybe it was paranoia. Whenever I had glanced back there was no colour to be seen - just the usual grey tones of Gotham. But even if there had been a car was that really unusual? People were allowed to have coloured cars. I wasn’t even completely sure it had been purple – maybe it had just been an odd shade of blue?  
When we finally reached the old derelict neighbourhood where Marv resided I couldn’t help sinking down into my car seat slightly - now feeling even more vulnerable than usual as I was in control of the car and my protector was badly wounded and losing a lot of blood.  
I pulled up outside the same run-down house as we had earlier that same day and I hesitated as I went to open my door - checking both ways down the street for signs of anyone I would rather avoid. There were 3 men loitering around another house down the street but they were quite far away that I didn’t feel too worried about them, however I still tried to make as little noise as possible as I slipped out of the vehicle – not wanting to draw too much attention to myself and the SUV which was probably the most expensive car around here. I made my way round to Frost’s side and offered him a hand as he opened the door. He completely ignored my aid and I scowled at his stubbornness as he moved past me and towards the chipping door. I followed behind him as usual and stuck close to him, glancing nervously around the area, as he knocked and waited for a response. After a few moments I could just make out the creaking of floorboards as someone made their way down the corridor. Then they stopped, yet the door still didn’t open.   
“Marv.” Frost called out in an almost bored tone - like he had the last time we’d been here – maybe this was some sort of security measure?  
There was a moment of hesitation after Frost spoke and then the door swung inwards to reveal Marv once more. “Frost!” He exclaimed in surprise, “Back again? Did Jake not-“ Then he took in Frost’s appearance, noticing the makeshift bandage wrapped around his neck and the blood splatters on his shirt. “Jesus.” He breathed, “What happened?!”  
“Do you mind if I come in?” Inquired Frost bluntly, ignoring the questions.  
“Damn Man, sure.” He muttered glancing into the back of the house and stepping to the side, ushering Frost through. Frost stepped forward so that Marv suddenly caught side of me, no longer hidden behind Frost’s bulky frame.   
“Oh – uh – you too?” he directed at me, gesturing into the house with his thumb.   
“Uh…” I hesitated on the spot, looking at Frost as he stopped in the doorway and turned to me, trying to figure out what was best to do, “Uh – No. I’ll just – I think I’ll go.” I stammered, suddenly feeling very out of place among the two large henchman in this rather dodgy area.  
“You sure?” Asked Frost  
“Uh… Yeah.” I said - sounding anything but sure. I was very aware of my situation at the moment. Here I was a tiny little girl stood before these two huge intimidating men, one of whom was offering his house to me. Sure I had come to see Frost as almost a friend, but now I was brought sharply to the realisation that he wasn’t really – I barely knew the man – I had just been following him around like a lost puppy.  
Marv was his friend. They were both terrifying criminals to anyone else - and they should be to me. I didn’t belong here and I wasn’t going to force my company on them anymore than I already had. Marv could take care of Frost much better than I could – and Frost was less likely to refuse his aid It was time I returned to normal. No longer pretending to be something or someone I wasn’t.  
“Here.” I said holding out the keys to the SUV to Frost. He didn’t move, just looked at my hand, I frown of confusion on his face.  
“No.” He said, shaking his head – soon regretting it and wincing at the pain. “You keep it.” He told me eventually when his face had relaxed slightly.  
“I don’t particularly want a stolen car traced back to me thanks.” I reasoned, not withdrawing my outstretched hand, instead shaking the keys at him in insistence.  
“And you don’t want to be wandering alone in this neighbourhood.” Argued Frost. I wavered a bit then, slightly lowering my arm as I looked down the street either side of me. It was true. The sun was already fading in the sky as we spoke and the place alone was enough to unsettle me in broad daylight. “Take it at least to get out of here. Then do what you want with it – dump it somewhere and forget about it.” Frost advised and I thought this through before nodding in agreement and pulling my hand back.  
I dithered for a moment – unsure if I should just leave or if Frost was going to say anything else. I wanted him to say something. I wanted him to insist I stayed with him – though I wasn’t sure why he’d want me to. I had gotten used to having him around, having someone to look out for me, a friend. It was actually hard to think about the fact that we were going our separate ways - I had no plans to ever see him again. There was no need anymore.  
I forced a smile at him, “Well, good bye Frost.” I mumbled, suddenly feeling very awkward and shy. This was hard. He didn’t say anything so I turned and began to walk back to the car.  
“Y/N!” He called after me. I looked over my shoulder at him in surprise; he had stood fully in the doorway now, facing me directly. Marv had left us to it and gone back inside – whether of his own volition or by Frost’s command, I wasn’t sure. “Where do you plan to go?” he asked  
I was surprised at the question – not what I expected to hear. “Uh – I don’t know. I’ll figure something out.”  
“Are you staying in Gotham?” he asked, his face a calm mask but I thought I caught of glimmer of something in his stony expression.  
I paused as I thought about this.  
“Yeah.” I admitted. “I think I’ll stay.”

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We had parted soon after I had confirmed I would remain in Gotham. I did as Frost had suggested, taking the car back towards the centre of the city and parking up in a small alley along the boundaries where the buildings were mainly warehouses or old seedy businesses. Still not the best area, but somewhere that a stolen car would be expected to be found and only a short walk – or an even shorter run – to get to a more populated area. Either way I still gripped my newly acquired knife in my hand as I moved through the darkening streets back to the still-bustling centre.  
As the streetlights began to flicker on overhead I caught a bus to take me to the nearest affordable hotel where I soon collapsed onto a lumpy single-bed mattress - the exhaustion of the day finally hitting me full on.  
It had been a long day. A really long day. I thought as I lay led out on the thin duvet, realising I hadn’t stopped all since I had left with Frost late this morning.  
I closed my eyes, drinking in the fact that I was finally alone, allowing the tension from my face to release so that I was fully relaxed for the first time in a very long time.  
I was back home. Gotham.  
If only I had a home though. I thought glumly, not just this dingy little room. I frowned as I looked around at the drab décor, wrinkling my nose at the musty smell that seemed to hang in the air. It would have to do for tonight. Tomorrow I could get my life together. It wasn’t worth worrying about tonight.  
And so it was like that – fully dressed and spread out on top of the covers of the tiny hotel bed – that I fell into an exhausted sleep.  
It wasn’t a restful sleep however. I never truly awoke in the night, only tossing and turning, continuously haunted by the Joker’s unsettling smile, his gaunt, hollow face and his ringing cackle. Every time I was close to consciousness I would be dragged back down by him until I once more stood before him, my gun in his hand, aiming at my chest.  
Each time I would turn to run and see Jake Riggens stood across the room and I would run to him, grabbing his arms and pulling him with me as I tried to run past, screaming that we had to run. Instead he would hold firm to his spot, not speaking a word and grab my arms, twisting them behind my back, so I was trapped in front of him, as the Joker stalked towards me, now holding his knife once more that was supposedly in my pocket.  
He grinned at me like the devil himself as he prowled towards me, tossing the knife between his hands, the pointed tip never leaving my direction. Behind him I noticed Penguin just stood there watching the whole scene, a devious smile on his face like this was his favourite past time.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I was grateful when I finally woke up at 5am. Deciding this was a suitable time to call morning as I rubbed dried tears from my face and breathed hard from the night terrors.  
I sat in bed for a long time, staring mindlessly at the ceiling as I ran over the events of the day before – not truly believing I hadn’t just dreamed that up as well.  
How could one person be so idiotic?!  
Why had I just up and left my new life? Why did one murderous lunatic warrant me travelling hundreds of miles without even a spare change of clothes? And – surprise, surprise – upon finally seeing me again he had threatened to kill me!  
But then he had kissed me. And boy had he kissed me.  
I was content then to just lack back on my lumpy mattress in the middle of that dank hotel room reliving those few seconds over and over - trying to remember every detail, every movement, every feeling. Hell I couldn’t feel guilty loving every second of it if no one ever knew.  
But it had been too short, too fleeting.  
And then he had gone.  
Just like that.  
Why?  
Had he heard Frost coming and thought it best to just leave? It didn’t seem like something he’d do - but then he didn’t seem completely himself recently.  
It had felt like something had snapped in him in the kiss though. At the start it felt like any other – wonderful, but nothing compared to a few seconds later. It was like something had suddenly flared up, like he had suddenly realised he wasn’t dreaming - that I was real and he was going to make the most of it.  
But that would mean he’d have to care about me. And he didn’t. The Joker didn’t care about anything.  
I shook my head. That was enough with that. Talking myself around in circles was not going to get anything productive done – it was just going to give me a headache.  
It was time to starting living in the real world. I needed a house and I needed a job.   
So I spent the rest of the day traversing Gotham for jobs, cycling through newspapers, websites and wanted ads for anything I could apply for. First and foremost I hoped to return to what I truly wanted to do – my singing. I missed it more than I realised and now that I was back in Gotham I felt a new inspiration to continue it - though beggars couldn’t be choosers, so in the end I would happily take anything.  
I ended up applying to 4 clubs that had openings for entertainers. Most of the city was owned by the various crime lords – they seemed to particularly favour the nightlife professions – so I was careful to do my research on each application so that I didn’t find myself working once more for one of the big criminal groups either directly or indirectly.  
I was surprised when all 4 of them offered me the job – had they known me from when I had worked for Penguin? I eventually chose the smallest, most inconspicuous club, not wanting to draw any more attention to myself than necessary in anyway.  
I managed to find a small one bed flat, not too dear and not too far from it either. For the first time in a while I finally felt like my life was getting back on track and in some state of order. I was going to be fine.  
And I was for the first few weeks.  
I soon discovered that – apart from my boss – most people at my new job hated me. It was a weird feeling – I’d never had such a large number of people dislike me for what seemed no apparent reason and I often felt like I had a million holes in me from the amount of dagger-eyes the other entertainers shot at me.  
My boss – Darren - soon enlightened me on their resentment. “They’re all jealous really.” He explained, “You’re a really good singer and they resent you showing them all up.” I was shocked at this but Darren wouldn’t take my modesty as he explained how surprised he had been when I took his offer as I was rather overqualified for the position in such a small, relatively shabby little club.  
But it was what I needed right now. I didn’t want to be in the limelight, I didn’t want to be a huge well-known entertainer. I just wanted to make enough money to live off and do the thing I loved. So this place was perfect.   
Darren didn’t complain, even if I didn’t want to famous I still had managed to increase the patronage of the club and was quite glad really because the place sure needed the money – it had definitely seen better days and could use with a new lick of paint here and there. I guess that’s what you got for being one of the only clubs not to be owned by a millionaire criminal.  
Darren was even more surprised I stayed because of the way the others treated me. He never did anything about it – though I didn’t blame him for that – I could understand why, what was the point in possible losing everyone over just one employee? Even if I was a good singer.  
But I stayed anyway. It didn’t make my job the best place in the world, but I wasn’t there to make friends, really, and I didn’t bother trying. At the moment I was just trying to get a handle back on my life once again.  
And so we all got on as well as we could. I knew they spoke about me behind my back and often tried to make my life as hard as possible, but I dealt with it. I didn’t protest when I was the one that suddenly got stuck with all the knitty-gritty jobs or when the room fell into a silence when I walked in. I generally ignored them and in return they eventually ignored me.   
That was until one night - just after all the live entertainment for the evening had finished – I was in the changing room/general staff room getting change out of my performance attire. Because the club was so small there were two ‘backstage’ rooms – the slightly larger room I was in now which had a couple of wardrobes and dividers in the back corner and a few sofas, desks and cupboards – and a small office leading off from it which belonged to Darren.  
I was currently behind one of the dividers, pulling on my last trainer as I got ready to head home when I heard people moving down the corridor. I recognised the high voices and girly laughs quickly and – sure enough – in walked Netty and Rebecca. They were both performers who did and act with a couple other girls and had just finished their set which went on after mine. I watched them through the gap between the panels of the flimsy partition as they paused in front of one of the sofas, not realising I was in the room and so carrying on their conversation without hesitation.  
“I mean I knew she was a slut by the way she dresses but I would never had thought little [Y/N] would do that!” Rebecca cackled. I could guess she was talking about me before she had even said my name and I brushed off the ‘slut’ insult without a care, thought I was intrigued by what I had supposedly done that was so shocking to her.  
“I honestly can’t believe it.” Said Netty, tittering away with her.  
“Wait till I tell Darren – he won’t want her hanging around here anymore.” Rebecca giggled maliciously. I frowned through the fissure at them - what was she going on about? I wanted to reveal myself and confront them but I knew that they might not tell me what this secret of mine was if I gave myself away too soon.  
“Whatta’ya gonna tell him?” Asked Netty in awe of Rebecca and her scandalous behaviour – honestly she was like a little child following the ‘cool kid’ around. I rolled my eyes at the pure desperation in front of me.   
“The whole thing.” Stated Rebecca importantly, “He’s got a right to know that he hired the Joker’s little whore!” she explained.  
That was it. This comment caused something to snap in me and I strode out from my hiding place making both girls jump at my sudden appearance. Netty’s face remaining worried, but – upon recognising me – Rebecca grinned deviously at me. “And here she is now – spying like the little snake she is.” She said snidely.  
“Shut up” I growled at her, my face stormy and my jaw clenched against my growing temper – all the anger I had suppressed over the last few weeks at these people that had derided and mocked me finally bubbling to the surface.  
“Oh, but I don’t think I will.” She sneered. “Bitch.” She added on for good measure, happy to outright insult me now she was so certain she could get me fired. Her pure attitude infuriated me and if looks could kill she would have been lying bloodied on the floor.  
“If you don’t -“ I started but she interrupted me again as Netty watched on.  
“You’ll what?” She asked rhetorically, “Cos you see my dear,” she patronised, stepping towards, her heels clacking on the laminated floor, “I know you’re dirty little secret`” She purred, pointing her manicured finger at me “– you’re little exploits with that psycho clown that runs around town.” You really think Darren’ll want you around when he finds out the kinda crowd you attract?” She asked, raising her eyebrows at me like the idea was completely ridiculous.  
“I have nothing to do with the Joker anymore.” I told her through gritted teeth, her words starting to eat at me. “I haven’t seen him in months.” That was a lie, it had only been about 4 weeks, but the meeting had only been for a few minutes.  
“Yes dear,” She said stepping closer so she was invading my personal space in an attempt to intimidate me. “but we all know that the mad little clown doesn’t forget his toys.” Rebecca cooed, pouting and tilting her head in pity at my apparent stupidity, “He doesn’t leave them alone till they are dead does he? No matter how many people he takes out in the process.” She explained. “And we all know what happened at the Purple Umbrella don’t we?” She asked turning to Netty who faltered - too wrapped up in the dialogue of her heroine to realise she had been addressed – before she eagerly nodded in agreement. “So why,” Rebecca snapped, spinning back to me, “would Darren wanna risk that, hmm?”  
Maybe she was right, I thought as I looked away from her hard, cold eyes. The Joker didn’t just leave loose threads around. People who dealt with him always had one final ending – corpse or missing corpse. It was always just a game as to how long you could last.  
The Joker had yet to come looking for me once more, but surely it was just a matter of time before he turned up again – whether to continue our weird little relationship or to finally end it completely. Would he find me here? Could I risk it? If he did I might well be threatening Darren’s business and livelihood? He was a good guy - who was I to risk ruining his life just because I needed a job?  
“You know what I don’t get?” Piped up Rebecca once more, breaking through my panicky thoughts, “What did you even see in that creep? I mean sure he’s fit for a freaky jester,” She admitted flicking her hand in the air, far too close to my face. I could feel the temper that had simmered down from my sobering thoughts begin to bubble once more – even stronger than before. “but the guy’s an insane murderer who dresses like a clown – I mean how desperate were you to sleep with him?”  
I was sick of hearing her talk like this about me or him. Sick of holding back my fury that prickled my skin and tensed my muscles. She wouldn’t have the balls to talk like this if the Joker was in the room with her – she was only brave behind people’s back when she knew she wouldn’t get the consequences of her actions.  
“Do you share lipstick?” She continued babbling on in her condescending tone.  
“SHUT UP!” I roared at her.  
“I mean is it some weird kink you have?” She continued, not listening to me.  
The next thing I knew I had launched at her, shoving us both across the room and up against the opposite wall, my left arm against her chest, pinning her up whilst, my right hand held the Joker’s blade up against her neck, “Will you just shut your bloody mouth!” I yelled at her. It felt so good to finally let that out I couldn’t help chuckling to myself.  
Her eyes were wild with fear and she kept glancing between my enraged face and the knife pressed to her skin. “YOU- YOU’RE CRAZY!” She screamed at me. “NETTY! HELP!” She called at the petrified girl behind me. Netty looked at Rebecca’s beseeching face before glancing at my somewhat manic face and the knife in my hand, the fear clear and evident in her eyes as she choose to remain in place.  
I smirked wickedly in triumph before turning back to Rebecca. “No help now.” I told her leaning in so I was close to her cheek, “Bitch.” I mimicked in a whisper, glad to be returning the same invasion of space she had to me, and upping it somewhat. I leant back and noticed how erratic her breathing was under my knife and it pleased me, feeling the grin spread across my face. Her eyes were looking at me in horror like she was seeing a demon.  
“Please! Stop!” She begged, her chin tilted up away from my weapon and her eyes scrunched in anguish.  
“Nah….” I muttered, “People shouldn’t make nasty rumours…” I cooed, mocking her earlier attitude to me and applying more pressure on the blade as her throat continued to rise and fall in large waves of her gasps. I was adrift in the thrill of what I was doing - all compassion and sympathy lost beneath the freedom I was allowing myself.  
“PLEASE!” She cried out, beginning to sob as water ran from her closed eyes. “PLEASE! It wasn’t me!” She whimpered. This caught my interest and I tore my eyes away from the red tear of blood forming under the steel to look into her watery eyes.  
“What wasn’t you?” I asked, indifferent to the water on her cheeks or the red now slowly trickling down my neck.  
“THE RUMOUR!” She yelped before she fell back into her sobs as her movements caused the knife to dig further into her skin.   
“Who was it?” I asked calmly, not relaxing the pressure.  
She didn’t answer straight away; too busy gasping for air between her blubbering. I twisted my hand into her dress, grabbing a fistful of material before pulling her towards me and then violently shoving her backwards into the wall. Her head smacked back against the brick behind her, causing it to rebound forward and fall slightly against the edge of the knife - the contact of her skin on the cold steel causing her to shoot back upright. Her face was contorted in pain, but at least she had shut up. “Who was it?!” I spat at her again.  
“J-Jake!” She snivelled.  
“Jake who?!” I snarled, shaking her slightly as a threat that I wasn’t afraid to repeat her treatment again.  
“Jake Riggen!” She cried out hastily before she broke down into tears again.  
I released some of the weight I had on her, dropping the knife from her throat in my shock.  
Twice. That was twice now that rat had betrayed me.  
I felt Rebecca relax slightly under the grip I still had on her dress now that I had removed the weapon. That disappointed me.  
I threw my weight back on her so she was shoved tightly up against the wall again, the knife-edge once more pinching into her throat.  
“Where is he?!” I snarled.


	34. Chapter 34

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys - sorry it has been so long, it’s been really hectic with exams and very intense last minute revision, and then just pure exhaustion so I apologise for the long wait!
> 
> I’m not overly happy with this chapter, but I’ve been sat on it for a while so I’m just posting it and moving on, so I hope it’s alright!
> 
> Enjoy! :)

I knocked hammered on the dark front door of the tall, boarded up building scowling at it as I waited for a response. There was silence. No response.  
I growled in annoyance, feeling the anger that had fuelled me on my way here begin to ebb with this setback. Could I really be surprise though? The whole street appeared deserted, and most of it plunged into darkness due to most of the street lights being broken or non-functional. Had Rebecca lied to me? After she had managed to control her sobbing enough she had managed to blubber out a response to my question.  
She’d had told me that Jake had mentioned a meeting this evening at this address. Had she lied, or had I just missed them? It seemed a bit dingy and derelict, but then – for his now, apparently illegal activities, it ought to be perfect.  
I pondered my options on the doorstep of the dark building, scanning up and down the road behind me for any signs of life. No one seemed to be around, but it didn’t put me much at ease. I was very well aware this was quite a dodgy neighbourhood and I didn’t want to hang around on the streets for too long in the dark. I was going to have to give up soon; however, I knew where Jake lived. As much as my fury had seemed to die down to non-insane levels, I was still angry with him and more than pissed off. I was going to confront him whether it took all night. I would then also find out whether Rebecca had lied to me – then I could deal with her as needed.  
I stepped back from the door and moved down the path, heading away from the towering warehouse and roughly in the direction of Jake’s flat. As I passed an alley at the side of the dirty brick building I just happened to glance down it, only finally registering my observation when I moved on a few more steps.  
There had been cars down there.  
I stepped backwards, retracing those I had just taken, until I stood squarely in the entrance way of the alley. There they were. Cars parked where the alley opened up at the back of the warehouse where deliveries would normally be made. There must be people in there.  
I snuck quietly down the alley, glancing around the small makeshift car park as I emerged, just in case anyone was hanging around. It was empty. I made my way further round the building, hugging the wall, and not noticing the purple sports car tucked between the large vans and SUV-like vehicles littered around the tarmac.  
I walked up to a small back door at the top of a few steps that sat next to a loading bay.I knocked smartly, vaguely registering in the back of my mind that only a few months ago I would never have had this bravery – I mean this was likely to be an abandoned warehouse full of criminals and convicts.  
No one answered, but I wasn’t giving up this time. I pounded determinedly on the door – they weren’t going to ignore me.  
I didn’t have to wait long then before the door swung open and I had to quickly step back to avoid being taken out with it. A tall man with broad shoulders and a large chest filled the doorway dressed in a smart shirt and jacket, his face cold and intimidating.  
He seemed to be expecting someone taller because he had to drop his gaze to meet mine, his face then forming into a scowled at me “What?” he asked harshly.  
I tried not to flinch at his bluntness, or recoil from his strong glare. “I need to speak to Jake Riggen.” I told him clearly, fighting any wavering in my voice and only too aware he was probably double my weight and could probably easily lift me over his shoulder and dump me somewhere even more unpleasant.  
He raised his eyebrows at me with a patronising look - as though I was a 5 year old trying to be part of the adults groups – clearly not buying my brave act or the idea that anything I wanted was important enough.  
“Why?”  
I sighed in exasperation at this; I didn’t want the third degrees from him. I fixed him with an annoyed glare. “Because I need to talk to him.” I said simply, refusing to tell my life story to barbarian before me.  
He stared at me for a while, possibly considering if he should remove me, do as I asked, or just completely get rid of me with the gun tucked away in his jacket pocket. I tried to search my brain for a way to convince him that I needed to be allowed access to the out-of-bounds club.  
“How’s Frost’s neck?” I asked him casually, trying to act unfazed by his intimidating stance and the hand he seemed to be moving to his jacket pocket – like I spent my whole life round his type. He paused at my comment, a look of surprise masking his scowl momentarily. The fact that I knew Frost - and knew about his recent injury – seemed to change his previous decision and he dithered in the doorway slightly - obviously still not convinced he should let me enter, but I was also someone who seemed to know more than I probably should.  
“Wait here.” He said gruffly, before shutting the fire door on me firmly. I waited impatiently, shifting my weight onto one leg and tapping my thigh as I pondered what he was doing – was I going to be greeted by numerous guns or just told to take a hike? Or would I actually be allowed inside?  
It wasn’t too long before I heard the door mechanism click again and it swung open to reveal Frost in his usual black suit. “Thought it would be you.” he muttered at me, but I could see the humour in his eyes.  
I smiled at him innocently, “Gotta miss me!” I quipped back with a grin. He seemed a little taken aback by my teasing mood, raising an eyebrow at me, but let it slide, instead furrowing his brow at me,   
“What are you doing here [Y/N]?”  
“I’m here to have a little chat with Jake Riggens.” I informed him calmly, trying to keep my face and voice as passive as possible, trying to not appear innocent and not like I was about to murder that boy. I couldn’t see he didn’t buy it and he raised his brow at me in question again. “I just want to clear something up.” I defended raising my hands in surrender, “That’s all.”  
He still didn’t seem completely sure, but he gave me a small gesture and turned back into the corridor, allowing me to follow on behind. The man that had originally opened the door stood just inside - pressed up against the wall to allow us to past - and I couldn’t manage to fight back the little smile on my lips as he watched me in surprise as I wandered behind his boss at complete ease.  
I followed Frost through short corridors and large cavernous rooms, all dark and dimly lit so I could barely see what was around me and was forced to keep my eyes on Frost’s back so I didn’t lose him. Finally Frost stopped, causing me to nearly walk into him thanks to my poor vision. I looked around his wide frame to see a dark coloured door in front of him that blended in with the dark walls except for the metal door knob and outline of light around the edges.  
Frost turned slightly to me, “You should probably wait here.” He told me before he opened the door. Upon doing so the small corridor I stood in was flooded with the dim light from the room the rumble of men’s voices reached me, though I couldn’t see anyone. Frost stepped out and I remained where I was, automatically doing what Frost told me watching the small section of the room I could see from my position - which was empty except for cardboard boxes pushed against the back of the wall –until the door closed on me.  
I quickly became impatient with waiting and I could still feel the same odd craziness that had taken over me before coming back and taking over my sane mind. Heck, he hadn’t ordered me to stay – it was only a suggestion I thought wildly, before - against my better judgement and Frost’s warnings – I pushed open the door as quietly as possible, stepping lightly into the room.  
The room was larger than I had thought and I looked around quickly taking it all in and I suddenly knew I had made a terrible mistake. What I hadn’t see in my quick glance was that the concrete walls were painted purple and, as I turned to the left to see the rest of the room, I saw that an area towards the back of the room filled with numerous chairs, most of which had been arranged in front of a large dark desk. The walls around this area were purple, but they also had ‘HaHaHa’s written over them in green, white and red as well as bullet holes and unusual splatter marks of red that I didn’t want to think about too much.  
The chairs were filled with at least a dozen men in varying clothing styles from suit and jacket to filthy t-shirts and muddy trousers, and even the odd fancy dress costume. As well as this, more men stood around, leaning on the walls either side or lingering on the side lines.  
As I stepped into the room, I flicked between the profiles and backs of heads that I could see, eagerly searching for Frost as my only form of protection, no longer feeling as brave as I had been outside. A whole room of these men was different to one guy on a doorstep, plus he might be here.  
I continued to move closer, feeling my hands becoming clammy and my heart rate increasing slightly at my nerves. A couple of the guys angled slightly in my direction caught my movement and stood up or straightened, suddenly on alert and each drawing some sort of weapon, pointing them at me. This then triggered the rest of the men to do the same, the room descending into silence, expect for the clicking of the safeties off guns and the sound of switchblades opening. I froze in fear, knowing one more movement could end my life.  
The movement of the men had caused a slight parting of the crowd and I could now see Frost directly in front of the desk, his back to me. He seemed to stiffen as everyone reached for their firearms, though he didn’t turn to look, because he didn’t need to – he knew it was me.  
“Do we have an intruder, boys?” Came an all too familiar voice in Frost’s direction and I felt myself cringe at the horrible mistake I had made, I’d been praying that though they were in this room – clearly decorated by him - he just might not be here. “Frosty, be a dear and move – I want to greet the brave man.”  
Frost reluctantly stepped to the side revealing the Clown Prince lounging on a large leather revolving chair, his feet up on the dark wood desk, crossed at the ankle. “OOhhWhhhooWhooo!” He chuckled in surprise, kicking his legs off the table top and sitting upright when his eyes landed on me, “Or should I say girl!” he exclaimed, drinking me in as I stood awkwardly alone in the middle of the room.

 

I didn’t say anything, just remained still and silent. “Come closer doll!” he called smoothly, gesturing me over to him vigorously, “I won’t bite” He promised as I took a hesitant step forward, “That is unless you ask reeeaaalll nice!” He sneered. I flinched at his remark but continued to move towards the table, feeling all eyes and points of weapons. The Joker waved lazily at them and they slowly lowered their weapons, some sitting back down, but all still alert in case I wasn’t alone.   
I now stood directly opposite the Joker, only the desk separating us, and I could see the change from the last time we had met. His hair was combed neatly back and his face was less gaunt, his cheeks bones still prominent like always, but it looked like he had actually eaten something rather than surviving off alcohol. He wore a smart dark red shirt that hung open half way causing his gold chains to standing out stark against his alabaster chest.  
“You know gate-crashing is considered rude princess!” He chided mockingly, shaking a finger loaded with golden rings at me, making a tusk-tusk noise. He then suddenly grinned at me - so widely his eyes crinkled and were basically closed. He seemed to be back to his normal self, as if I had never left, as if we’d never kissed the other day and he had fled. I didn’t say anything; just stood there stony face and his smile faltered and fell, instead, looking at me slightly irked.  
“Humph.” He huffed, “not in the mood to play huh?” He asked and I still didn’t say anything. He sighed again in exasperation like I was the most boring thing in the world, rolling his eyes and his neck in a clockwise motion before he swung his head back to face me. “What brings ya here then, doll?” he asked politely, though I wasn’t about to be led into a false sense of security.  
“I’m here to talk to Jake Riggen.” I stated with any bravery I had left.   
The Joker gave me a dramatic look of surprise, “Ooooooo….” He dragged, before glancing around at the men around us, “The kitten knows what she wants for once!” He mocked, addressing the henchman. They knew what was expect of them and they smirked or grinned stupidly back - though none of them dared to say anything – they were well trained.  
“Whattaya want with him, doll?” he asked leaning towards me across the table whilst I fiddled with my hands, unsure how I usually held my arms under his intense gaze.  
“I – He – He owes me an explanation.” I stuttered him, not wanting to have to explain everything to him. I could see in his eyes that he wanted to probe deeper into the mystery and I begged him internally not to. Maybe something in my expression got to him somehow because, after staring at me in thought for a few moments he broke away, tapping his chin with his pale hand as if pondering my wish, “hmmmmm…” he muttered, “Alright. You can have him. Try not to break him though doll – he has his uses - occasionally.” He said dryly, as though this was rare. He gestured absently at the wall of men and they parted to reveal Jake who had been stood at the back of the crowd, slightly apart from the rest of the henchmen – as though he wasn’t comfortable being part of them. He seemed skinnier than the last time I saw him, maybe it was the stress of working for the Joker, or maybe it was just in comparison to the rest of the large, burly guys around him. He appeared to be in a state of shell shock due to the sudden attention on him and – I was glad to see – embarrassment.  
I wasn’t sure what I was supposed to do now so I ignored the Joker’s last comment and walked through the sea of men who watched my every movement - most now no longer on alert for danger, but not giving up on the chance to stare at a girl. The eyes felt like they were burning my skin as I suddenly became very conscious of how I walked and I heard a faint growl behind me that I didn’t turn at, but I noticed the eyes were diverted away from me and I could breathe a bit easier.  
I stopped in front of Jake, trying to keep my focus on him and not glance at the other men around us, “Can I have a word privately?” I asked quietly, my voice stiff - the sight of him just reminding me of everything he had done to me.  
He nodded reluctantly and turned away, me following on behind as he led us away from the criminal’s meeting and back through the door I had entered through. We turned off soon though, entering a corridor I hadn’t been down before. We passed several doors, some open and revealing boxes and crates stacked against the walls, some shut and labelled with things I couldn’t read through the dim light. They clearly had something against good lighting – not that I was 100% sure that I wanted to know what was in these rooms – it was most likely illegal.  
Eventually we stopped and he turned the handle on a door to our right, pushing it open and standing aside to let me past. I scowled at him as I walked past him, not letting his gentlemanly manners mitigate any of my anger at him. He followed after me, closing the door behind us and hitting a switch which illuminated the room in a bright artificial light. It was blinding to both of us after the poor lighting elsewhere and we both squinted as our eyes adjusted.  
The room we stood in appeared to be a relatively small storage cupboard. The back wall was lined with floor to ceiling metal framed shelving units, most empty but a few contained cardboard boxes. We stood in silence for a few moments, I watched his face, noting that the harsh light did nothing for his scrawny appearance, illuminating the bony shadows and making him look emaciated. Jake, however, was clearly feeling very awkward and seemed unable to meet my hard stare. Neither of us was sure how to start. Eventually Jake spoke up, “If this is about-“   
“Before we start,” I interrupted sternly, holding my hand up, “I would like you to remove any weapons.” I told him, “I don’t like feeling this vulnerable.” I confessed, playing the part of the innocent little girl but I glared at the back of his head as he obliged, emptying his pockets of a gun and knife and removing another switch blade from one of his boots. He walked over to the metal frames and placed them on an empty shelf before returning to where he had stood opposite me. I nodded in silent thanks.  
He looked at me nervously, like a child waiting to be yelled at but I didn’t say anything. I just continued to stare at him, wondering how he had the gall to do it to me.  
“[Y/N], what-“  
“Why did you do it?” I snarled at him through gritted teeth.  
“What?” He asked taken aback and flinching slightly from my sudden snap.  
I eyed him dangerously, silently warning him he better just tell me the truth and not give me some fake crap. I could feel conflicting emotions in my head batting backwards and forwards as to whether I wanted to patiently wait this out, drawing the apology from his - but possibly breaking down into an emotional wreck again - or to give into my wrath I could feel pushing me, let it take over and not take any crap from the scrawny boy in front of me.   
I could quickly feel which side was winning, even his voice seeming to jar and vex me. Jake must have sense my mood and notice the threatening way I watched him as he suddenly seem to become very cautious, like he was worried I had gone insane.  
“Look, if this is about the whole Penguin thing, I-“ He started, shrinking back slightly and raising his hands in defence.  
“The whole Penguin thing?” I mimicked back at him childishly, “You mean the thing where you not only sold me to the Penguin, but also just happened to basically sell me to the Joker as well?!” I asked, my voice breaking slightly when I spoke about the Joker, trying to force myself into my more emotional side, worried I would do something rash otherwise.  
He kept silently opening his mouth, trying to desperately come up with an excuse for his actions. I turned my eyes away from him as the edges of my vision began to blur, instead focusing my eyes on where the floor and wall by his left foot. “I could almost understand all that though,” I sniffed, talking at the ground, “It was your job after all.” I admitted quietly, pausing a second as I tried to swallow the lump forming in the back of my throat. “But then to hear Rebecca – To think you would –“ I stuttered, fighting against myself.  
“What are yo-“ He began.  
Next thing I knew I was lunging at him and, taking him by surprise so that we both fell. I managed to somehow catch my balance and remain upright, however Jake continued to fall back, trying to break his fall by flinging his arm back, but not managing to stop his head from hitting the wall behind him.   
“YOU TOLD HER I SLEPT WITH HIM!” I roared at him. I was shocked by my action, but I was rolling with it now, no longer able to fight my more dominant side of insane anger that seemed to rear its head all too often at the moment.  
Jake flinched at my scream and gasped as he placed a hand of his head, grimacing at the pain and looking up at me warily, only to recoil when he saw me towering over him, breathing heavily down at his collapsed form.  
“[Y/N], please - don’t-“ he spluttered, his eyes wide with fear, lifting his free hand in a weak attempt to appeal to me through my hysteria, but shrinking none the less under my wild eyes. In the back of my mind I wondered what he was talking about and I followed his gaze which was focused on my right hand. I was holding the Joker’s blade. I vaguely remembered fiddling with it in my pocket but had no recollection of drawing it. Yet as I watched myself spin the knife in my hand I couldn’t help but grin. in my hand as I shifted my weight from foot to foot, feeling the strong flow of adrenaline in my veins and unable to keep myself still  
“Why?” I hissed through gritted teeth, shifting my weight from foot to foot, feeling the strong flow of adrenaline in my veins and unable to keep myself still and advancing slightly towards. He cowered further against the wall. God what a wimp I thought maliciously as I stared daggers at him, waving the knife dangerous in his direction  
“Wh-hat?” He stammered, too focused on my movements and the blade to pay attention to my words.   
I lunged at him again, so I was now crouched in front of him, extremely close, the knife blade at his throat, but angled so the tip pressed up into his jaw causing him to lift his head so had to look down at me. “I said” Enunciating slowly so that he got the message, “Why did you lie?”  
His eyes were full of fear and he couldn’t hold my gaze, instead looking anywhere but my face and attempting to see the blade below his chin – though what good that would do I didn’t know.  
He gulped under the pressure of the blade and I felt it move weapon in my hand. “I -I “ He faltered.  
“YES?” I snarled impatiently, pressing the steel harder so it the edge dug further up into his skin.  
“I was jealous!” He cried out, closing his eyes against the pain and I noticed his hands clench into fists against the floor.  
“Keep going…” I pressed him, spinning the tip of the knife lazily against the skin under his jaw. He sharply inhaled in pain but I didn’t let up.  
“I – I liked you.” He told me, his jaw clenched in pain, “But you just up and left me!” He gasped, his eyes scrunched up at the sting. I pushed my pressure upwards and he was forced to throw his head as far back as possible, “I- I never heard a word from you again! So I joined up with th-the J-Jo-oker, told him- him w-where you were!” He cried, his features contorted in pain, “Ne-next thing I hear is you making out with that creepy clown!”  
That snapped me and then next thing I knew I had retracted the knife from his jaw, only allowing him a short respite before I plunged it into his left upper arm. He cried out in agony and I relished the noise – it felt good to hurt someone that hurt me – it soothed the open wounds he had caused – like applying a cooling ointment.  
I kept my grip on the handle of the blade and leant in so my cheek was close to his and my lips at his ear, “Ya’ know – you’d be no good in an interrogation” I whispered seductively, “ – you crumble too easily” I sneered before I wrenched the knife out of his flesh and unfolded myself back upright. I admired the red that painted the steel as Jake reeled off a continuous stream of curse words, rocking slightly in agony as he clutched at his arm in an attempt to stem the freely flowing blood that began to soak his shirt.  
I shifted on weight back and forth on my heels, pondering what to do next – I wasn’t done yet.  
“Fancy this, Doll?” Came a smooth voice from behind me and my gun was offered up next to me. I grabbed it and pulled but it didn’t come with me, instead there was a sharp tug on the other end and I was spun around to face the green haired devil behind me.  
His face lit up when he saw the oddly crazed look on my face and his grin spread wider than I’d ever seen when he saw the freshly bloodied knife in my hand. “How about a trade?” He bargained and held his free hand out for the knife. I raised an eyebrow at him and placed the dirtied knife in his open palm. His long pale fingers closed over his, stark white against the crimson liquid, and I felt him release the gun which I abruptly pulled to my side.  
He grinned at my eagerness and gestured to the side of me at Jake, “Continue…” he purred.  
I gave the Joker one more sceptical look – unsure what he wanted – before I twisted back to Jake who still sat crumpled against the whitewashed wall.  
I could end him now. Kill him with a single shot.  
I lifted the gun to him, pointing it at his head, then dropping it to chest.  
A shot rang out and I heard Jake scream, blood now pouring from his foot. I pocketed my gun and turned around, content.  
“Not finishing doll?” Came the polite intrigue from my left, I threw my head over my shoulder at the Joker who was leant, arms folded against the opposite wall – clearly having settled in to watch the show.  
“Too easy.” I stated, “He needs to suffer.”  
And with that I left the warehouse without a pause.


	35. Chapter 35

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys,
> 
> I would just like to say a huge thank you to everyone who is sticking with me on this fan ficiton! I really appreciate the messages I am getting! I love them - they honestly make my whole week!
> 
> So here is the next part, quite short compared to what I have been doing recently, but hope you enjoy anyway - i wasn’t really sure where i was going with it as you can probably tell!
> 
> Enjoy! :)

I spent the next day berating myself for that night. I couldn’t get over what I had done or even how I had done it. It was like the incidence with the newspaper and Hannah all over again. But this time I had a weapon, first a knife and then, thanks to the generosity of the Joker, my gun.  
I tried to seek comfort in the fact that I hadn’t actually killed him, though this wasn’t particularly reassuring as I knew I would have quite happily. At least now I knew that it wasn’t the Joker that had set up my job with Penguin, and therefore set up everything after. No, life had just happened that way.   
This didn’t change my opinion of Jake, but it made me hate the Joker a tiny bit less.  
I tried to keep that night’s events out of my mind and move on from it, promising myself something like that would never happen again. I just had to keep my head low and stay away from those that might do me wrong.  
Of course I had managed to lose my job through my actions. Darren couldn’t exactly keep on someone that attack his other staff and threatened their life – completely understandable I thought. Besides, I had already talked myself into leaving the club thanks to Rebecca pointing out that the Joker might turn up any night looking for me.  
And so I was jobless again.  
For the next few days I didn’t really leave my tiny flat, I just sat on my laptop searching and applying for new jobs. It wasn’t that there was a lack of jobs as such, more that I was becoming more and more picky toward them. I needed something that would cover my rent, but I was also now purposefully looking for venues where I didn’t particularly like the staff - thanks to Rebecca’s obvious point – I didn’t want to destroy anyone else’s business by attracting the wrong crowd and I couldn’t predict whether the Joker would ever come looking for me again.  
It was a few days after I had confronted Jake when there was a knock on my door. I had been curled up with a hot drink, once more scrolling through the same ads I had scrolled through at least 5 times before, when the door sounded and I jumped at the sudden noise.  
I frowned at the door – who on Earth was it? No one knew where I lived and I didn’t really have any friends to tell in the first place. It must just be a charity or something, but they would have to have e buzz them in. My heart dropped, it must be the landlord for some reason – had my rent not gone through? I had only just managed to scrape enough together to pay for this month, I couldn’t afford any more problems - I really needed a new job soon.  
Another series of knocks rang out and I placed my mug down on the coffee table, throwing my computer off my lap and unfolding myself from the sofa, making my way to the door.  
I pulled it open, already apologising to the landlord for whatever I was being accused of.   
I blinked in surprise at the man before me. “Oh, uh - Hi Frost.” I greeted.  
“Hello [Y/N].”  
I quickly glanced either side of him, searching for anyone else that might be lurking in the corridor, “He’s not with me.” Frost reassured me.  
“Oh. good.” I muttered lamely, straightening up and glancing around awkwardly, searching for something to say as we stood silently in the doorway. “Um… Can I help you?”  
He watched me for a few beats, as though measuring me up or looking for something before he seemed content and gave a small nod, “Yes.”  
Oh lovely, he was being vague. “Uh… Would you like to come in?” I asked, knowing he was clearly after something, but also not willing to save the both of us a load of time and just come out and say it.  
“Please.” He answered and I nodded, stepping back and pulling the door open in invitation. Frost stepped over the threshold and looked around at my small, rather dingy flat - no change occurring in his facial expression. I closed the door behind him and followed in further into the flat.  
“Who did you think I was?” Frost asked abruptly, not bothering to turn around as he inspected my small lounge area.  
“What?” I jumped slightly at the unexpected question, too busy lost in my own thoughts as to why he was here.  
“You answered the door as if you knew who was on the other side,” He explained, “and it clearly wasn’t me you expected.”  
“Uh- yeah, I – uh – I thought you were my landlord about my rent.”  
He glanced at me before continuing to move around my open plan flat, “You’re struggling to pay for this?” He asked, amazed.  
“Maybe.” I snipped bitterly, it was alright for some.   
He realised he had offended me and straightened up slightly from where he was looking at a relatively empty bookshelf. “Sorry.” He said quickly and I knew he meant it.  
I shrugged it off, “Not really your fault. I was the one that threatened a women with a knife – can’t blame them.” I said simply. “Now I spend my days job hunting.” I explained gesturing at my laptop on the sofa.  
“No luck then?” Frost asked, sounding like he truly cared - though I doubted it.  
“Minimal.” I muttered.  
We fell into silence again and I began to feel very self-conscious of his rather thorough inspection of my living room. “So… um…” I mumbled, trying to think of something to break the uncomfortable silence, “How’s your neck?” I asked in an attempt of casual conversation  
“Stiff.” He said, “But better.”  
I nodded in acknowledgement, “Good.” I muttered, a bit peeved he wasn’t really helping the conversation – after all he was the one that came to talk to me, “So, um, are you back working for him again then?” Referring to the other night when he had clearly been at the meeting.  
“Yes.” He said bluntly, not looking at me he moved into the kitchen, “He appears to be back to normal.”  
“No grudges over the whole-“ I gestured at my own neck, where Frost’s wound would have been. He glanced over his shoulder at my pause and noticed my miming.   
He shook his head as he turned back, “No,” He said, “I know he would not have done it had he been in his right mind.”  
“The Joker has a right mind?” I mumbled without thinking.  
“You know what I mean.” Frost muttered back, and I sort of did. The Joker did a lot of odd things, but they were always on purpose – I’d never known him to accidentally do something – but I also understood that he wouldn’t normally jump at Frost and attack him like he had.  
Frost continued to wander my flat and I was becoming more and more worried he was going to start going through every draw in the place. I was running out of ideas to get Frost to actually talk to me and explain why he was here.  
I steeled myself - no more beating around the bush, “Ok, enough chit-chat. Why are you here Frost?” I asked abruptly and he glanced over his shoulder at me in surprise at my sudden bluntness.  
“Just seeing how you were doing.” He said simply.  
“Really?” I asked, raising a disbelieving eyebrow, “You decided to go through all the pain of figuring out where I now live, finding a way to get into the building without using the buzzer and now are basically inspecting my entire flat, just to check on how I was doing?” I paused, glancing away and then back to him, “Is this about the other night?” I asked the back of his head as he inspected a picture on my wall.  
He finally turned to face me, “That made me want to check on you a bit sooner then I was going to.” He admitted.  
“I don’t need you to check up on me!” I insisted loudly, “I’m not a child, I am a fully functioning adult that is quite capable of surviving just fine on my own!” I paused, trying to not get angry at him for his patronising behaviour – he probably meant well. “You know I travelled several hundred miles alone right? That I lived in that little town in the middle of nowhere, for basically a month on my own before you showed up? What makes you think I suddenly require babysitting?”  
Frost suddenly round to face me, “Have you been back?” Frost asked, ignoring my question.  
“Back? Where?” I furrowing my brow, “To the farm house? No, why would I?” I asked, eyeing him suspiciously.  
“We left very abruptly.” He pointed out, “You didn’t pack anything – did you not leave a lot of possessions behind?”  
I wondered where he was going with this – why was he so concerned if I didn’t have a few of my things? “I- uh – didn’t really have much.” I confessed, though continuing to eye him up warily, “I – I didn’t have much – I didn’t take much - most of it was new things I had bought.” I shrugged, “So I didn’t really care about leaving it behind.”  
“So you have no beloved possessions?” He questioned doubtfully.  
Why was he so insistent on this? “Uh, well, I guess there was – I mean there was one thing.” I told him reluctantly, I didn’t particular want to open up to a henchman – even he was basically a friend now.  
He raised an eyebrow in question at me, signalling for me to carry on. I squirmed under the look, not wanting to reveal my weird little obsession with a photo. “It’s just a picture.” I blurted out, hoping that would be enough for him,  
“A picture?” He repeated, I nodded, “Of what?”  
I cringed away at the question, “It’s silly.” I told him, when he didn’t respond I looked back to him and he was still watching me expectantly. I sighed in defeat, “It’s just a picture of my club. You know - the one that was destroyed…” I trailed off lamely. By me.  
If Frost found this at all odd he didn’t comment on it – for which I was grateful. Instead, however, I just stood there in silence. I couldn’t bear to look at him at the moment, worried – though he wasn’t saying anything – that his face would show what he really thought.  
“So you don’t have this picture?”  
“No.” I breathed at the floor, I looked back to meet his eyes again, “I left it behind and now the guy that owns the house has probably got rid of it.” I knew I had forgotten the picture but actually stopping to acknowledge the loss was painful - it was the last piece of my family I really. I could feel a lump of emotion forming in my throat as I thought of the fact it was now probably in a landfill somewhere, lost for good.  
I cleared my throat, “Anyway.” I muttered, blinking back the water I could feel building up in my eyes, “Uh, why did you want to know?”   
“I’ve got to head off actually, got a job in the area.” Frost said suddenly, turning away from the murky window he was looking out of. I was so taken aback by this sudden declaration that I didn’t notice he had once again ignored my question.  
“Uh- ok – sure.” I stammered out, very confused and thinking Frost was behaving very oddly as I followed behind him to my front door. “Uh, Frost.” I called as I held the door open for him to step out. He paused in the doorway, turning back to look at me over his shoulder.  
“Do you- could you- uh. What happened to Jake?” I asked, faltering as the two sides of me fought, my innocent naïve self that couldn’t condone what I had done and needed to know how Jake was doing, the side far happier with the suffering, not caring less what he was going through and feeling there was a lot more of suffering I could have caused to balance everything out.  
“He’s getting medical attention.” Frost informed me. “[Y/N].” Frost began, turning around completely now so that he faced me, “Why did you do it?” He asked, almost gently.  
I could feel the two sides of me pushing back and forth, one wanting to break down and scream she didn’t know, the other willing to do it again and not needing to explain. “Ask him.” I snapped out eventually and I noticed Frost almost retract from my harsh tone, surprised as my personality seemed to shift to a stronger, more assertive self.  
Frost’s reaction didn’t last very long before his calm mask returned, “I will when he wakes up.” Frost replied calmly, almost mechanically.  
“He’s unconscious?” I asked in surprise, reverting back to my innocent side, Frost watching me suspiciously and slightly amazed at my sudden mood changes.  
Frost nodded, “Doctors were unsure if it was the loss of blood or the blow to the side of the head.”  
I crinkled my forehead at this, “What blow to the side of his head?” I asked, puzzled and replaying the night in my head, “He never hit the side of his head, just the back.”  
Frost seemed confused just as confused at this, “No, he had a swelling on the back of his head, but also a slight fracture to the left side of his skull.” He explained.   
This baffled me. How was that possible? I had definitely not hit the side of his head. Had he fallen from where he had been slumped? No. That wasn’t a great enough fall to fracture the skull. Was it an old wound they had only just noticed? Or had I seriously done the damage but not remembered it? But I hadn’t drank or taken anything and - if it was true - then how was it that I could perfectly recall everything else about that night, there were no ‘blacked out’ parts of my memory.  
Frost watched my face as I ran back through my memories; head bowed and eyes darting back and forth as I held the door open, trying to remember everything from that night.   
There was no second head injury.  
“I-I don’t remember.” I admitted, still deeply perplexed by this. 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Jake Riggen lay unconscious in a sterile bed whilst bright lights illuminated his pale skin and multi-coloured bruises. X-rays hung on the wall, clearly showing the hairline fracture on the left side of his skull, and echoing beeps rang out in the otherwise silent hospital room which signalled his continuous heartbeat.  
But Jake didn’t know any of this; all he knew were the last few moments before everything went black that now constantly replayed in his head.  
She had turned back from the clown, towering over him as he clung to his arm where his body was tortuously pumped blood out of the deep gash. She had lifted a gun – where had she got the gun? – and he had closed his eyes against what was going to happen next and the agony in his arm.  
The next thing that truly registered with him had been the burning pain in his foot - had she set him on fire?   
He hadn’t known - he had just screamed.  
He had barely heard anything over the sound of his own pain and his agony had dulled most of his comprehension at the time, but he had vaguely heard her say “He needs to suffer.”   
He tried to wrench his eyes open, but when he had she had already gone. Only the criminal clown was left in front of Jake.  
Jake should have been afraid of this, but at the time the agony had mitigated any other emotion and numbed all common sense.  
There had been a hand on his cheek then, breath on his face. He had snapped his eyes open in surprise at the touch, hoping she had returned to him. Instead his eyes had met bright blue ones and a terrifying grin.  
“I heard everything.” Came the voice, quiet, smooth, by his ear, yet it had promised no comfort. “My doll wants you to suffer, “The voice had pondered, “But I’ve never been very patient.” It had admitted before he remembered a cracking from within his own head he was gone.


	36. Chapter 36

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, I believe the next part is ready.
> 
> I’ve messed around with this part a lot - chopping, changing and adding as i wasn’t entirely sure what was happening now, later, never etc. so if anything doesn’t make sense or seems out of place I apologise!
> 
> (I actually put some Joker in! I know CRAZY! Sorry - I get a bit carried away some times so I apologise he is not in it as much as I want! The next few parts should always have Joker in, hopefully for a bit longer?)
> 
> Enjoy! :)

I pondered the visit from Frost for the rest of the day. The whole thing had seemed rather odd, but I also knew the chances of ever getting any answers about it were slim so I eventually let it slide - attempting to get on with my more pressing worries.  
This was quite easy in fact due to a rather odd phone call I received a few days later from a man very insistent that I needed to accept his proposal of a job offer. Having submitted so many applications I was at a loss at to which this one was and whether I had even gone for an interview yet. This was soon cleared up upon further questioning the very frantic man where it soon became apparent to me that I hadn’t even applied to the position.  
I was even more surprised when I found the actual position wasn’t even to be a performer at the club, but was in fact to run the club in a prime spot in the Gotham night life area. At this information I could feel my jaw literally hanging open and a thousand questions rattled through my head.  
How was this possible? I had never applied for this job so how did he find me? And what on Earth made this person think that I was qualified to run a business? Sure I had run my family’s but that was without any formal training or qualification - and I never even put that experience on my CV. There was something fishy about this and I was becoming more and more certain it was a scam – especially because of how desperate the man was to hear an affirmation from me.  
Many times throughout the phone conversation I attempted to apologise to the rather nervous sounding man and turn the offer down, however, the man on the other end never seemed content at this answer and refused to let it drop. Eventually - out of sheer exhaustion of the situation – I agreed to meet him at the club in question to discuss exactly what was happening – and to prove to myself that this was real.  
As I followed the address to the club there was a large part of me that was certain I wouldn’t find anything there, so I was pleasantly surprised when I arrived at the door to find a very new-looking club. I examined the exterior, it didn’t appear to have any obvious name on the front of house and from the outside was relatively subtle, the outside painted completely black except for the door which was a bright orange with purple accents. There wasn’t single dent in the door or a chip out of any of the paint work and it all looked new and fresh.  
I knocked on the door but there was no response. Maybe this was the scam? He’d give me a real address but never show? I tried the door anyway and, to my surprise, I found it unlocked. Probably against my better judgement, I stepped in, walking down a long dark corridor lined with posters of new and old bands alike, but not in the pealing-off-old-advert-way where no one had ever been bother to remove them, but in a sort of retro decoration.  
Eventually it opened up into the main club room. Unlike my club – which had a rather old fashioned layout with plenty of seating areas and a relatively small dance floor - this one was almost empty of tables and booths except the few that lined the walls on raised platforms. The colour scheme seemed to be dark purple and bright orange throughout, the walls all painted purple, the accents the vibrant orange.   
Littered around the room were supporting square pillars that matched the shade of the walls but were then able to be illuminated by bands of lights which ran alone each side. I glanced to my left to see a huge DJ system that looked to be made of the newest kit, but even that didn’t dwarf the even larger stage that sat behind it which could have supported a whole broadway production.   
As I stepped onto what I believed to be the dance floor I noticed that the floor was interspersed with large tiles of floor lights which would glow a bright orange when the club came alive. What surprised me the most was that my shoes didn’t stick to the floor as I walked.   
This club really was brand new.

I moved further into the room, now glancing through the forest of pillars to my right, my eyes falling onto the bar that was up on a dais against the back wall.   
The back wall was made of glasses, bottles and mirrors. The bar itself was a deep purple with orange trimmings to match the rest of the room and, hovering directly above it, was an array of multi-coloured bottles. They probably contained spirits I had never heard of and I couldn’t help but admire how they would look pretty impressive when the lights of the night hit them.  
There were a few stools that lined the front of the bar, all a brilliant orange colour that looked more like arm chairs due to the tall back rests. It was on one of these weird bar stools that I noticed a man perched with a folder laid out on the surface in front of him. I headed towards him, my heels clicking on the dance floor and the plastic lights. He spun the swivelling stool around at the sound of my footsteps, abandoning his papers and straightening up when to face me.  
Upon recognising who I was he hastily slipped off his seat and hurried to meet me, catching me just before I stepped up onto the raised platform. “Hello Miss [L/N], it’s good to meet you in person.” He greeted in a rush, his voice sounding nervous I wondered why he looked so afraid of me.  
“[Y/N], please.” I insisted taking the hand he offered me and shaking it with a smile in an attempt to get him to relax slightly  
He smiled a bit in relief at my friendliness, “Nice to meet you [Y/N], I’m Gregory Hinchum – uh – Greg.” He said, shaking my hand back.  
When we release each other’s hands there was an awkward pause where we both stood there, neither sure what was next. “Uh – shall we have a seat?” He asked timidly, gesturing a hand toward the stools. I nodded and we moved over to them - him returning to his folder whilst I tried to climb on the tall stool next to him with any grace I could manage.  
“So – um,” Started Greg, fishing through his papers before him – whether this was an excuse to buy time for thinking or he was actually looking for something, I wasn’t sure - “You’ve uh- you’ve seen the place.” He muttered and if it hadn’t had been so silent around us I would have had to strain to hear him.  
I nodded, waiting for him to go on, “So – uh – what do you think?” He asked, peering at me anxiously, still shuffling through the papers.  
I was a bit taken aback by the question, “Uh –well – yeah - it’s nice.” I stammered, “Um- very - very new.” I added biting my lip at how lame that sounded.  
“Oh good.” He said happily, completely ignoring my lame compliments. “So you’ll take the job?” He asked hopefully.  
“Um – “I faltered, surprised at the rush to a final answer, “I’m not sure…” I trailed off, trying to silently confer to him that I didn’t think it was right for me.  
“Oh?” His face fell at my look of uncertainty, “Why not?”  
“It’s a bit intimidating.” I admitted. “I’m not sure I’m up to running it…”  
“Nonsense!” He dismissed quickly, “I hear you’ve managed a club before! This’ll just be the same!”  
“Uh – I’m not sure it will.” I insisted, brushing aside the fact he somehow knew I had run my own club previously. “I mean this place,” I gestured around at the room, “is so much nicer, probably way more expensive too – I don’t want to mess this up for you.” I explained.  
“For me?” He questioned, puzzled before realisation brightened his face, “Oh no. This isn’t my club!” He said hastily.  
“It’s not?” I asked confused.  
“Oh no.”  
“Then whose is it?”  
Greg coloured brightly and I felt my heart sink slightly. Whose club was this? “Greg.” I said trying to stay calm by breathing evenly, “whose club is this?” I asked quietly but more firmly.  
He didn’t say anything, just began pulling papers and examining them, before hastily shoving them to the back of the folder.  
“Greg…” I warned, my tone dangerous.  
“I’m sorry, I can’t –“ He was cut off as I abruptly grabbed his collar and yanked him towards me so that he was close to falling off his stool. “Tell me.” I snarled, teeth clenched.  
“I-I can’t! He told – He said not to!” He cried. I stuck my hand in my coat pocket and withdrew my gun, placing the barrel up against the side of his head. I heard him whimper at the touch of the metal on his skin.  
“Oh shhhhh Greg.” I purred, “Now that’s a pathetic noise for pathetic people isn’t?” I cooed, pouting at him. He shut up immediately.  
“Now, I breathed, not breaking contact with his panicky eyes as I pressed harder into his skull with my gun. “Who’s. Club. Is. This.”  
He didn’t answer straight away, his eyes darting around anywhere but at my own.  
“Well?!” I demanded fiercely, shaking him with my grip on his shirt so his balance on the stool became even more precarious.  
“The Joker!” He cried recoiling from my harsh tone and clenching his eyes shut from against the pain in his skull where I applied even more pressure.  
“Err!” I growled, throwing him backwards so he nearly toppled off the stool if it wasn’t for the weird back rests on them, even then though, the stool wobbled dangerously.  
I shoved myself off my stool and began to stride out of the club, anger powering my strides. Could I do anything without that damn clown interfering? What this another attempt to manipulate me - to get me under this thumb once more? Did he not remember what happened last time I ran one of his clubs?! And I was more than happy to do it again for him!  
Suddenly there was the sound of a gun shot behind me and I heart skipped as I spun on my heels to towards the noise. Greg was now collapsed on the floor beneath his stool, a dark puddle forming from beneath him.  
“So that’s a no?” Came a mocking tone from behind me followed by an echoing laugh. My heart dropped at the voice and I twisted towards the voice, already reaching back into my pocket for my weapon.  
The Joker, still stepping out of the shadows, raised his hands in surrender when my hand dove into my jacket, his pistol handing from his index finger through the trigger guard. “Woooooow!” He cried dramatically, “No need to get violent!” He giggled at me and I could feel my heart rate increasing and I wasn’t sure if it was fear, shock, or the fact his purple coat was riding up his body naked torso so that his toned stomach was on clear show for me. “I’ll show you mine if you show me yours!” He cackled, reaching into his reptilian coat with his free hand and withdrawing a handful of knives, splaying them in a fan in his hand as he returned his arm back up again, an innocent look on his face.  
I watched him suspiciously but decided to play along, copying his action and retrieving my ‘Deadly voice’ gun from my pocket and showing it to him. He grinned at my cooperation and then threw his weapons to the side – his eyes never leaving mine - so that it landed a good 10 feet away, clattering against the floor. I watched him warily, but followed suit.  
“See?” He asked, his hands back up in surrender, “All friendly.”  
I glared at him, “You want me to believe that’s all you’ve got on you?” I asked in annoyance.  
“Feel free to search, Doll.” He quipped, “I’m up for as much touching as you want.” He grinned devilishly and I rolled my eyes at his childishness.  
When he figured I wasn’t going to challenge him any further he lowered his arms down, partially hiding his torso again, though more skin that should be was on show thanks to his half open coat.  
“Gotta say, I’m impressed doll, it’s like looking in a mirror sometimes.” He praised me and I felt the heat in my cheeks as I realised he must have been watching my exchange with the now-dead Greg. I remained silent, pleading the blush in my cheeks to go before he got any closer, trying to keep my scowl at him unwavering.  
“So can we come to a deal now, Doll?” He asked pleasantly, ignoring my silence and giving me a sickly sweet smile. I cringed slightly, more from fear than repulsion – I think I preferred him angry – at least then I knew where I stood with him.  
“To work for you? Not likely.” I scoffed, trying to remain strong and confident by holding onto my anger that was leaving me all to soon now the man was before me.  
“Aww come on kitten…” He purred, advancing slightly towards me, “Pretty, pretty please?” He pouted  
“Don’t you remember what happened last time I worked for you?” I retorted, glowering at him.  
“Ah, but Doll, that’s why I want you!” He exclaimed happily, “Put aside the whole bomb thing kitten and you’re a good business women!”  
I continued to eye him with distrust, not believing a word. He noted my distrust and sighed dramatically, “Look to sweeten the deal how abou’ I don’t interfere in anythin’ you do? Your club, your rules. I just asked for some of the profit.” He explained, gesturing with his palms faced upwards as he explained.  
I still didn’t trust him. This was beyond suspicious.  
“Why?” I snapped, on guard at his promises. “What’s in it for you?”  
“Well, doll, you see.” He began, stepping closer so his rested his hand on my arm and I flinched at the touch, though he didn’t remove his hand. “I don’t like being in someone’s debt ya’ see.” I frowned up at him, who’s debt was he in?  
“Now, try as I might.” He pondered, releasing my hand and strolling to my right and waving his right arm dramatically in the arm whilst his other was tucked behind his back, “I cannot deny that you may have, possibly saved my life the night you returned to the mansion.” He admitted.  
He glanced back over his shoulder at my look of shock before returning his attention forward again. “Now.” He started, spinning to face me again, “You may well not have been aware of this doll, but – none the less - sadly I am.” He stared at me severely, no humour in his eyes, his face completely serious , “So I have to even the playing field.”  
I frowned at him, “What’s that got to do with this club?”  
His grin returned at my confusion, his eyes lightening once more as though someone had flicked a switch, “You need a job don’t you?” He probed, stepping toward me, I nodded. “You need something to do – a project?” He asked slyly, taking another step, “A reason to get up in the morning?” Another step. We now stood incredibly close - something I ought to be used to due to how often it seemed to happen – but I wasn’t. I could feel the heat radiating off his naked torso and I felt it go straight to my cheeks as I couldn’t stop myself blushing deeply – I just hoped he couldn’t see in the dim light of the darkened club.   
He stared intensely at me, trying to wear down any more of my resolve. His eyes were so intense - the gaze hitting so deep - that I felt naked before him, all emotions and thoughts laid bare to him. I couldn’t seem to look away - my whole vision filled with his blue eyes - so I did the only thing I could and screwed my eyes shut.  
The Joker’s presence lingered around me for a few moments; his gaze feeling like it was burning my skin as it roamed my face.  
Then I suddenly couldn’t hear is low growl or harsh breathing. I snapped my eyes open but he was already gone.  
“Humour me.” Came the purr from the darkness of the club.


	37. Chapter 37

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys! Sorry about the long delay with this next chapter, I've been away from home doing work experience and, though I did finally write it I had no WIFI so I couldn't post it till I got back!  
> Finally back so here you go! Not the best thing I've ever written, but I just want to get it posted!  
> Enjoy anyway!

I didn’t know how or when I made the decision to run the club the Joker had offered me. To me there was no clear point when I made the choice, I had spent the entire sleepless night deliberating, constantly changing my mind, writing out pros and cons and flipping coins to still have no firm answer. Yet the next day, outside my front door, was a small key with a purple label that read ‘Club 52’ in bright orange letters.  
I had picked it up – security reasons of course – then pocketed it before getting ready for the day to take a walk for some air and a few errands. However my mind must have clearly became dissociated from my actions because I before I knew it I was stood outside the club, the key feeling like it was burning in my jeans.  
I had stared at the entrance for a while, glad the street was quiet - most normal sane people already at work – because I must have looked like I was internal crisis.   
Maybe that’s because I was.  
I could imagine it now, the new shiny modern interior, the high tech equipment, the perfect location; all could mean this could easily be the hottest venue in the city given the right leadership.  
But was I the right person? Could I do that?  
And if I took the job and I couldn’t, what would the Joker do? If I messed up would he finally be done with me and now finally kill me? Did I want to risk that? But what if I turned him down, would I have finally outlived my usefulness and he’d get rid of me anyway?  
Again, I’m not sure why I did it – curiosity? – But I found myself unlocking the door and exploring the club further.  
Before I knew it I had been working there for a week. I still often wondered if what I was doing was right and I often felt embarrassed that I had taken the job so easily. I felt like I’d given up, let him win, sold my soul to the devil. It was stupid because I definitely needed the money and at least this way I didn’t have to worry about whether my boss was a good guy or not in case I ruined their business.  
Yet something about it all still felt internally wrong.   
More what prayed on mind was what the Joker was doing. It surprised me that, after a week, I still hadn’t heard anything from him. I had presumed that he would have stopped by at least once to rub it in my face how he had once again manipulated me, got his own way, and - maybe - he would explain his master-plan to me, finally put an explanation to why he had given me the job in the first place.  
Yet there was nothing. No sight. No word.  
I presumed that he knew I had taken the position somehow, or else I imagined I would have heard from him - or at least he might have tried to get the key back. Then again, was he someone who cared about trivial things like that? How badly had he wanted me to take the job? It seemed pretty badly when I had spoken to him, but maybe that was just my imagination.  
I tried to distract myself from thinking about the Joker too much – though he seemed to be taking over my mind – by trying to ignore the fact he was my boss and throwing myself into the club – I wanted to make it work.  
I had met my team of staff - all who seemed perfectly nice - but there seemed to be an odd underlying tension between us. For the first few days I put it down to nerves between everyone as we were all strangers, but now – as I looked out over the club and saw a DJ chatting to one of the cleaning staff quite happily on the opposite side of the room - I had to think twice. They all seemed to actively try to avoid interaction with me unless I approached them. They were perfectly polite when I did address them, but they rarely ever sought me out if it wasn’t important.   
My main theory for this odd behaviour was because I worked for the Joker. I knew that in the Gotham night club game most were owned by the main crime lords, they were then run by those close to the criminals – this meant all staff were afraid of me because they thought I was one of the Joker’s chief hench-people – not believing me if I tried to tell them otherwise.   
I caught the DJ’s eye and waved with a smile. He looked a bit surprised, clearly not noticing me previously, lifted a hand in acknowledgment - a fake smile on his face - before he hurried off, the cleaner in hot pursuit. Probably thought I was going to yell at them for not doing their job.  
My face fell at their abrupt departure and I was left alone in the main club. I spun the stool I was sat on back around so I face the bar once more, dropping my gaze back to the folder that was open before me where I suppose to be perusing the numbers from the week before.  
A sudden movement above me made me jump and I clutched my chest, my eyes shut, “Bloody-” I breathed, my heart racing.  
“Sorry.” Came the apology from the girl behind the bar. I opened my eyes to see Bobby, my bartender, in front of me. She was quite a petite girl with short hair – both sides shaved very short and dyed bright pink and the top styled into short black spikes. Her clothes always matched her punk rocker style, usually consisting of a dark corset top, short skirt and tights with fingerless gloves. The only thing a bit out of place on her was the round glasses that constantly slipped down her nose due to her excessive energy.  
Bobby was an odd girl - her personality as loud as her fashion choices - and that might have explained why she, unlike the other staff members, didn’t seem afraid of me and we got on really well - though I often had to remind her I was her boss.  
She was the best bartender I had ever worked with though, thanks to her love of gossip and advice columns and her ability to talk about anything and everything - it also meant I never had to try too hard in any of our conversations.  
She chatted at me for a while whilst I pretend to look through my numbers before she finally reached over and closed my folder. “Ok, time for a drink!” She sang at me, bringing out a couple of cocktail glasses.  
It was a tradition now for the pair of us to have a pre-show de-stressor drink before we opened and if we hadn’t managed to see each other that day we could catch up a bit – not that I ever said that much. However tonight – for some reason – the topic of conversation seemed to turn to me.  
“So, [Y/N].” Bobby started, wiping out the glasses with a dry cloth, “Talk to Counsellor Bobby. What’s wrong?” She asked, her main tone humorous, but I could hear the hint of true concern in her voice.  
I frowned at her, confused, “Nothing.” I said to her back as she added ice to the glasses.  
She shot me a look of disbelief over her glasses, “Then why are you moping on my bar like you’d rather be anywhere else than here.” She asked, taking a couple of bottles from off the wall behind her.  
“I’m not.” I grumbled, pushing myself off my elbows so I that sat straighter on my stool as she poured the liquors.  
“Yeah you are, and you have been since we first met.” She persisted, refusing to let it drop, “I hoped it was nerves but hun, we’re a success – “  
“This club is a success.” I corrected, taking the cocktail she slipped across the bar at me and having a sip, the alcohol warming my throat.  
“And yet you still look like you’ve just walked out of a funeral!” She exclaimed, ignoring me my amendment.  
I sighed loudly, not bothering to try to brush it off or fail to hide it anymore and putting my head back in my hands.  
“Come on, [Y/N}, this is your baby!” She gestured around the club, swinging her own cocktail dangerously “and it’s beautiful.” She pointed out.  
“That’s the problem though!” I groaned, throwing my head back up so I moaned at the bottles that hung overhead, “It’s not my baby. It’s the damn Joker’s!”  
She watched me carefully, sipping her own drink, her eyes brightening with interest at my sudden outburst – she knew she was starting to get somewhere, “So how come you work for the clown anyway?”  
“What?” I coughed out, choking slightly on my drink.  
She took a large sip of her own drink, “Well, clearly, you’re not a criminal. And ya’ don’t really strike me as a fugitive… Though not judging if you are!” She joked raising her hands in mock surrender. I raised an eyebrow in slight amusement at her until she sobered up, dropping her hands again. “I’ve never even seen you talk with him here.” She said, frowning, “Have you ever actually met him?”  
“Oh yeah. I’ve met him.” I admitted reluctantly, and something in my voice conveyed all sorts of meaning.  
“Ohhh sounds scandaolous!” She squealed, putting her drink to the side and placing her fists under her chin, leaning on them like a teenage girl at a sleepover waiting for the gossip.  
“I’m not talking.”   
“Aww come ooonnnn.” Bobby whined.  
“You’d better watch it - keep prying like that in the Joker’s business and you’re going lose your life.” I warned her, I meant it jokingly, but I was also aware that there was some truth to it.  
“Well I’m not gonna to tell him, so you’re the one who’s risking my life!” She told me, with a wink.  
I rolled my eyes, not impressed.  
“So, why does he never come here?” She preserved, determined to get something from me, “I heard he visits every club, or at least his men do. Yet they never come here.”  
“We have a deal.” I said simply with a shrug, taking another drink.  
Bobby narrowed her eyes at me, suspiciously, pursing her lips and I fidgeted uncomfortably under her examining gaze. “Why do you hate him so much?” She asked astutely  
I was a bit taken aback by the question – not realising I was extruding an aura of anger at the Joker, “Besides the obvious fact he’s a mass murdering psychopath?” I quipped back, trying to pretend I was still smooth and collected.   
“Yes, beyond that. You seemed to hate him in a more… specific way. Like you too have history.” She hinted, raising her eyebrows.  
I looked away, not trusting my face to remain passive.  
You do!” She squealed, “What like romantic history?!” She asked eagerly, glad she’d finally broken through my wall.  
I could feel my cheeks getting hot and I was glad the club’s lighting was so dark, though I was sure Bobby had infra-red vision and could sense my temperature increase. I threw back the rest of my drink of as a distraction.  
“Sooooo….” She trailed off suggestively, “Spill the beans woman!” She giggled, pleased at my reaction and practically jumping up and down in her excitement.  
I glanced around to check no one else had entered the room in the time we had been talking. Coast was clear. “Fine.” I weirdly trusted her – even if I had only known her for a week.  
Fair to her, for once Bobby didn’t interrupt me, allowing me to rattle out my whole story, only just managing to contain her excitement throughout. She was a good audience, squealing and giggling at what she classed the juicy bits and making horrified expressions and gasps at the right parts.  
“Jeeezzz” Bobby breathed when I had finished. “[Y/N] you don’t think…”  
“What?”  
“That he’s pissed at you?”  
“Pissed? Why?”  
“I mean you left him. No one leaves the Joker.” She said bluntly, “If they do it’s only ‘cause of a huge hole in the side of his head.” She explained making a gun with her fingers and shooting herself in the head.  
I couldn’t help myself from gulping at the sound of this.  
“All I can say hun,” Bobby said leaning over the bar, trying to bring me back to the point, “Is if this ain’t the place for you – move on. Nothing’s worth this misery – and the further away from that clown the better – I’m not sure he’s got the best intentions for ya’.  
“You don’t say?” I snorted, “The insane killer clown prince of crime doesn’t have my best interests at heart?” I asked with a small sarcastic smirk.  
Bobby went to open her mouth, but then thought better of whatever she was going to say.  
“I need to do a sound check, I’ll see ya later.” I said, getting us both out of this awkward situation. She gave me a small smile of pity and began cleaning the glasses.   
I began to head off to my office when I turned back, “Oh Bobby,” She looked up from her cloth, Thanks.” I said simply and I noticed her smile widen at me, glad we were still fine.  
I thought over what she said over the next few days. I knew she meant well, but I also knew that she didn’t know the Joker, she hadn’t dealt with him before – all her information was from others and the rumours passed amongst the public.  
Plus I didn’t want to think this whole thing was just another plan to ruin my life and if it in fact was, I certainly didn’t want to confront it right now – that would be admitting it was possible.  
And so I ignored her advice whilst I was still able to. How could she be sure anyway – the Joker was nothing if not unpredictable, maybe he would do the one thing everyone wouldn’t expect for once.  
At least that was what I thought until a couple of days later when there was a knock on my office door.  
I didn’t often work in my office in the club - preferring to be where everything was going on an often opting to sit in one of the few chairs in the main club area, or at the bar. But Bobby was being particularly chatty today and there were a few rehearsals on the main stage this evening before the club opened that I was finding all too distracting from my boring paper work.  
I jumped at the noise that sounded from my closed door, not expecting anyone to disturb me – as they never did. “Uh – come in!” I called, trying to sound the confident, in-charge boss woman I was supposed to be, though my voice still faltered and shook a bit – I wasn’t use to the power yet.  
The door was pushed open and there in the doorway stood a familiar large figure and I automatically jumped to my feet, my body ready for fight or flight.  
“Evening my dear.” Sang Penguin as he stepped out of the shadows of the corridor and into the light of my office. He wore a snug-fitting black suit with a tall matching top hat sat on his balding scalp and his usual gold trimmed monocle that was reflecting the light from my desk lamp.  
The sight of the man I had come to loathe once more in my office made me speechless and so my only response to his greeting was to stare at his approaching figure, swallowing the lump forming in my throat.   
Penguin advanced towards me slowly peering around the room as if he was at an exhibit My eyes fell on the umbrella I now noticed he carried in his left hand which he used as a cane as he limped across the room “Lovely little aviary you have here.” He complemented me, but I was too busy trying to figure out which umbrella he was holding – was this the one which was part pistol, or the one with the blade that could be produced from the tip? Maybe the one that shot poison darts? Or was this a new design that I had yet to see?  
I eyed the umbrella in fear as Penguin continued to crane his neck around my little office space, “Can’t say I care for your colour scheme however.” He frowned, lifting his umbrella-can and waving it in the direction of the walls, referring to the orange and purple that matched the rest of the club. I recoiled at the careless movement of the possibly weaponised umbrella but remained standing my ground behind my desk.   
Content that he had examined every inch of the room he cared to look at, the Penguin turned back to face me with a pleasant smile, “May I?” He asked politely, indicating to the chair that sat before my desk with the tip of his umbrella. I faltered slightly, not sure whether I should let him stay out of curiosity for what he wanted or to do what all common sense suggested and kick him out. I didn’t have time to think it through and he was starting to look at me oddly for my lengthy pause. I nodded silently.  
He brushed aside my reluctance and gave me a repulsive smile as he settled down into the well-padded chair opposite my own. I hesitated, unsure what to do now and still stood up on the other side of my desk.  
“Uh – can I offer you a drink sir?” I asked, trying to keep the civility between us.   
He shook his head, “No my dear, I’ll be quick.”  
I nodded in acknowledgement, anxiously sitting back down, but perching myself on the edge of my seat, adrenaline still prepping me for anything. I was on high alert of him and his umbrella which I still kept half an eye on as it sat tucked away below the desk. I was well aware my gun sat in the bottom right draw of my desk. It was close – that was good – but I couldn’t get it out rapidly if the need suddenly arose.  
“My dear I am here to make a plea for clemency.” Penguin suddenly said, startling me back to the present moment, “I understand that I have committed many fouls by you but I hope you can forgive these transgressions and see clearly what I have to offer you that this little enterprise surely cannot.”  
I blinked at him blankly, trying to figure out what he meant by his little speech. Was he honestly suggesting I go back to working for him again? After all he had done to me? Just him being in the room was enough to remind me of everything he had done to me – he was the man who basically made me sell my soul to him, who made me work endless hours for little recognition, who tried to sell me off to another criminal and who also lied constantly to me without a care for its impact on me, just because it suited him.  
“Excuse me?” I asked too shocked by his suggestion to remember my manners towards the crime lord.  
I saw the Penguin at bristle my rather crude response to his ‘gracious’ offer. “Oh my little dove,” he started, sounding rather annoyed before he paused, taking a breath and calming himself again. “I fully understand that you have your new position here and - though it may be a higher one than you held previously at my own establishment - I assure you it is not without its risk.” He told me.  
“And yours wasn’t?” I retorted back, becoming irked and feeling my temper rising at his audacity.  
The rotund man scowled at me, “My dear, you seemed woefully unaware of your own predicament.” He told me, riled by my disrespectful reaction, “You have unwittingly put yourself in a very dangerous position! Working for the Joker of all people! Do you not realise that painted prankster now holds you in the quintessential position to enact his revenge!”  
“What revenge?!” I cried, distraught and confused by his intense preaching. Then I remembered Bobby’s advice. Was Penguin warning me of the same thing?  
“For your falsified demise of course!” He cried energetically, banging his umbrella smartly on the floor in indignation and I flinched at the action. “Surely you know the Joker does not take kindly to those who desert him?!”  
My heart sank. For two people - one of which probably knew the Joker’s behaviour rather well - to warn me of a possible revenge plan by the Joker was more than a coincidence surely? Especially in such as short space of time. I couldn’t help but start to take it into serious consideration - after all I knew deep down this offer must had been for a reason, there must be an eventual consequence for my poor choice.  
The Penguin could see he had managed to shaken me and he grinned triumphantly. “So you see little sparrow, I am only looking out for your wellbeing.” He clarified, laying it on thickly in an attempt to seal the deal.  
I glared at him, my right hand – previously folded in my lap - sneaking down past my knee, hidden by the rim of my desk, to silently open the bottom draw. Then I sat up straighter, interlacing my fingers and placing them on the desk in front of me, my face emotionlessly and calm, staring squarely at the large man across from me.   
“My dear Penguin,” His eyes darkened at the term of endearment, my insolence angering him. “Whilst I appreciate your warning I am quite content with my position in this business.” I stood up abruptly, placing my hands now flat on my desk, and leaning over the desk, clearly exposing the gun now tucked into my jacket pocket. “And I can assure you with the upmost certainty, if I did choose to leave this post; I will not be taking you up on your offer.”  
I smiled pleasantly down at him and he glared back with stony eyes, reaching for his umbrella. I moved my hips ever so slightly and I saw his eyes glance to my jacket where the handle of my gun hung out, exposed and ready for me to quickly draw it. He hesitated only for a moment before he shifted his weight to his makeshift cane and pushed his large body to his feet. “Very well my dear.” Penguin said curtly as we both stood sizing each other up, and I was happy to note I stood taller thanks to his short stature and my heels – it didn’t mean much but it boosted my confidence in my power. “Don’t expect me at the wake.” He snarled coldly before he turned abruptly and strode smoothly out the door, his limp barely impeding his movement. `   
Once he was out of sight I waited for a few moments, watching the door for any sign of movement before I collapsed back into my chair, my pulse still beating erratically under my skin.  
I needed to think.


	38. Chapter 38

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here’s the next part! I’ve messed around with and have changed it around quite a bit so if any bits don’t really make sense it’s because of that and my poor editing!
> 
> Hope you enjoy anyway!

I hid in my office for most of the night – the club didn’t really need me during opening hours, it practically ran itself, everyone else knew what they should be doing. I only left the safety of my room when the club had closed in the early hours and I knew I had a rehearsal to go through before we could all call it a night.  
I moved silently around the back of house, grateful when I found all the corridors empty - the staff kept out of my way and I wasn’t in the mood to appear happy and approachable right now.  
I was glad I didn’t have to dress up for rehearsals - the last thing I wanted to do was force myself into one of the snug cocktail dress and fiddle for hours on my hair. Instead I stayed in my soft cotton black trousers – professional, but not uncomfortable – and my loose pale green blouse, the top two button undone. As I headed backstage I tied my hair up into a scruffy bun, not bothering to catch all the loose strands I missed, allowing them to hang lazily around my face. I frowned when I realised that the wings of the stage were also empty. Where were the technical team? Maybe they were on the other side of the stage, or maybe they’d gone to help with the lights again.  
However, I couldn’t help but notice that - although most had promised to stay behind - the club felt particularly empty of staff at the moment. I didn’t linger on the thought too much; I’m sure they all had their reasons to leave early – probably just excuses to escape my presence.  
The band that had been rehearsing slipped off the stage as I moved to the steps. When they caught sight of me they dropped their eyes hurrying past me, sweat beading at their foreheads. They might not be too comfortable around me, but they weren’t usually that anxious to get away. I watched their departing backs in confusion before pushing it aside as I walked up the steps. As I crossed to centre stage my supporting band came on from the other side, none of them meeting my eyes, all looking very nervous – worse than when we performed live. I frowned at them, but none of them glanced up to me to see my questioning look.  
I decided I’d ask them later.  
I faced out to the ‘crowd’ – not that I could see anything though thanks to the bright lights aimed at me from the rafters. I tried to keep my eyes relatively low to stop being blinded, but a movement caught my eye and I looked up, shielding my eyes against the glare from the spotlight above me. Bobby was frantically jumping up and down behind the bar waving like someone signalling a SOS. Once she realised my eyes were on her she stopped prancing around so much and flung her arms up, frantically pointing to my right at the few tables that lined the wall.  
I squinted in the general direction she indicated but struggled to see anything beyond the wall of light shining on my face. I frowned back at her in puzzlement and she continued her little charade, jabbing wildly, but the lighting on me was too intense and all the darkness beyond the stage merged into one so I couldn’t make anything out clearly. Was it someone left behind that was refusing to leave? A drunk maybe? Surely the bouncer could sort that out? Or had he already left? Wasn’t it his job to check the place over first? Was it a staff member doing something they shouldn’t? Did anyone really have the guts to do that in this place? Or was Bobby just having a laugh with me?  
Whatever it was, I’d sort it later. I didn’t need to worry about it right now, besides my rehearsal would be short, I’m sure it could wait.  
So I moved my gaze off Bobby stepping up to the microphone stand, adjusting it back to my slightly shorter stature than the guy previously. I glanced behind me at the band, now set up and ready. I gave a nod to a few that were looking at me. The drum beat started up behind me.   
I sang a couple of songs, every now and then looking at Bobby at the back of room opposite me. Whenever she caught my eye in return she would try the same signing but still to no luck, the visibility of the rest of the club still hadn’t improved. Eventually she gave up and focused on cleaning up the remnants of the night. At least she was still managing to focus on her job – that was most important thing right now.   
I turned to my band before my last song. “Guy’s I’m changing it up a bit tonight. Can we do this one for the last song?” I asked politely handing them a sheet of songs and pointing at the one I wanted. I didn’t really need to rehearse it, and I didn’t really plan to use it in many of my acts, but I could still feel the tension of my talk with the Penguin in my body and sometimes I just needed the right song to release those emotions. I felt this suited the occasion and maybe, just maybe, it might make me feel better.  
The glanced at each other nervously, not happy about the last minute change, but I could see they also didn’t want to fight me about this. Eventually they reluctantly nodded and I tried to give them a grateful smile in thanks but they had already turned away from me, dismissing me back to my place.  
Whatever. I wasn’t in the mood for their attitude.  
I took a deep breathe.  
“It’s like you’re a drug…” I began gently, the piano joining in softly after my first line.  
It’s like you’re a demon I can’t face down,  
It’s like I’m stuck…  
It’s like I’m running from you all the time,  
And I know I let you have all the power,  
It’s like the only company I seek is misery all around…”  
I sang gently, not looking out, my eyes closed.  
“…And I realize I’m never gonna quit you over time!” The drums kicked in behind me, and I felt adrenaline rush through me, the music taking over.  
“It’s like I can’t breathe!  
It’s like I can’t see anything,  
Nothing but you,  
I’m addicted to you!  
It’s like I can’t think!  
Without you interrupting me,  
In my thoughts, in my dreams,   
You’ve taken over me!  
It’s like I’m not me…  
It’s like I’m not me…”  
I poured my soul into that performance, the lyrics just holding too much truth for me at the moment. I could feel the crashing drums running through me, pushing me further as I sang till I was nearly shouting.  
“It’s like I’m not me…” I finished off quietly, head down, facing the floor as the last note from the guitar hovered in the air. I didn’t move from my finished position immediately, as I could feel my emotions crashing around me and I didn’t feel fully in control.  
Eventually I felt collected enough to straighten up and I glanced behind me, about to compliment my band, only to find the stage empty. Why was everyone in such as rush today? I scowled at how unprofessional they were being – was all of this just because they had to work for me? Maybe I ought to hire in some people with more guts.  
Suddenly a slow exaggerated clapping came from directly in front of me. I span around, my immediate thought was Bobby messing around and I shielding my eyes with my hand to see her, only to have my heart drop through my stomach.  
The Joker was walking slowly toward me, clapping. He was dressed in a black shirt and black trousers so he almost blended with the darkness around him. It contrasted with his alabaster skin which was illuminated in the harsh artificial light above us. His usual devilish smile stretched across his face and I scowled at him as he approached, at least now I knew why everyone had done a runner, and what Bobby had been waving about.  
“Bravo, Doll!” He applauded stopping a few foot away from the stage, his eyes on me. “And might I add you look particularly stunning tonight!” He grinned eyeing my unimpressive outfit up and down with a gleam in his eye.  
I stayed where I was, gripping the microphone stand tightly as if it was my only lifeline. “What do you want?” I snarled at him, maybe he didn’t realise how bad his timing was.  
He looked dramatically offended at my tone, “Why, I’m just here to check on my club!” He said, placing a hand to his chest and pouting at me with his deep red lips. I eyed him his suspiciously, not believing for a second that was what he was truly here for, or at least not the only thing – if it was then why not send a henchman?  
“Has anyone ever told you you’re too sceptical?” He jested.  
“Give me a reason not to be.” I spat before turning my back to him and moving the microphone and stand to the backstage, disappearing behind the curtains. Conversation over, he can leave now. I heard a growl behind me at my insolence but that didn’t stop me striding backstage. I turned around to collect the rest of my things when I came face to face with the Joker only a couple of inches away, his hand immediately grabbing at my waist and pinning my body against his. I let out a gasp at the impact and the sudden closeness.  
His snarl melted away when he looked my fearful face, leaving a scowl of annoyance, “See doll, I don’t get you.” He told me, “I give you a nice job, good money, even leave you alone for a while, yet I’ve still not seen a genuine smile grace those delicate lips of yours…” he purred, his eyes now falling hungrily to my mouth, the sudden change of attention both frightening and exciting me. I licked my lips self-consciously and he let out a low rumbling growl before he snapped his eyes back to mine. “Why can’t you smile?” He breathed, and I thought I heard vulnerability in his voice for the first time.  
“Why do I have to smile?” I asked, genuinely intrigued but his reaction.   
With my words however his face snapped shut again, his cold, stony expression back in place and his hand tightened once more - almost painfully - on my hips. “Because doll, I’ve seen the madness that can brighten your eyes…” His eyes lightened slightly, “...and it’s truly beautiful.” His eyes slipped from mine and roamed my face. He dropped a hand from my waist, “I can only imagine what a simple smile would look like…” he purred, drawing his finger along my lips and cheeks in an imaginary grin to match his own.  
I felt myself blushing hotly under his touch and I couldn’t look at his eyes anymore, instead keeping my gaze glued to his lips as my skin tingled from his touch. He lifted his finger away from my lips and I could feel his eyes dancing around my face, though I still refused to look up. I felt his hand moved to the side of my face, brushing some of the loose strands of hair behind my ear. I shuddered at the feeling and felt myself all relax into the moment, it felt good to be held and comforted; I almost forgot who I was with.  
“But you see, doll, you’re madness doesn’t hang around.” The Joker said lowly, then he suddenly grabbed my chin, pulling my face up so my eyes had to meet his, forcing my neck into an uncomfortable angle. “It flashes through you burning and engulfing everything,” He said fiercely, clenching his teeth and tightened his grip. I flinched at the pain, scrunching my eyes closed as his fingers dug into skin. He paused, watching me struggle under his grip, his breath harsh above me.  
“But then it flickers out, dies to embers.” He growled, almost annoyed, but he relaxed his grip on my chin and I allowed me to drop my head slightly, relieving my neck.   
“The problem is doll,” He rumbled, “when that spark of insanity is gone, you’re empty.” He told me honestly, releasing the hand on my hip, and bringing it up next to our faces. “It’s the look people get when they’ve lost hope.” He said gesturing with hands as he spoke, like a true performer, “When they’re just…” He trailed off waving his hand for the word, “…existing.”  
“It’s my favourite look.” The Joker admitted, stroking my cheek with his thumb. “Except on you.” he purred lowly.  
I blinked at few times trying to bring myself back to some form of sense. I pulled back, away from him and I was surprised when he released his grip without an argument. He kept his hand in the air, curling his fingers slowly till he formed a clench fist. I was very aware that he could easily make another sudden move and hit me.  
“You thought giving me a club was going to fix everything?!” I demanded incredulously.  
He dropped his hand to his side, and I relaxed slightly but he voice was full of warning, “Careful, kitten.” He told me darkly. “Someone might think you’re ungrateful.”  
I didn’t know what to say to this. I just stood there opening and closing my mouth like a fish, unsure how to articulate everything I wanted to say to him.  
Instead I turned around and left, not caring if he followed me.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I was surprised when I didn’t feel a hand yanking me back around or a gun pressed to my head, but I made the most of it and left immediately. I didn’t bother to collect my bag from my office – it would still be there in the morning and I didn’t want to waste time.  
I cursed and muttered to myself the whole way back to my flat, not bothering to catch the bus back, relishing instead in the cold air and the muscle exertion to wear off some of my frustration at the Joker.  
I hated how weak I was, that he could manipulate me so easily into things like taking that job. I blamed his eyes. I couldn’t think straight when they held my gaze – all common sense seemed to vanish from my mind.   
I stormed into my flat, not bothering to try and keep it down for my neighbours below as I stomped across my floor. Upon reaching the opposite side of my flat I stopped, throwing my hands up in the air in exasperation and shouted in frustration before I spun around to face the rest of the flat.  
I was slightly out of breath from my fast-walk home, my chest rising and falling heavily as I gazed around my flat, now at a loss of what to do. I wanted to attack something. A part of me wished the Joker had followed me so I could have taken a few punches out on him - however a little voice in the back of my head told me that I would have quickly regretted that decision.  
I snarled at that little voice to shut up and then threw myself on my sofa, burying my face in a cushion as I screamed into the material - releasing my pent up energy. After a few minutes I sat up on the sofa, hugging the pillow to me. I was a weird mixture of wanting a hug and wanting to punch something - so maybe the cushion was a good idea.  
I buried my head back into the cushion once more, releasing another muffled cry. It felt good. I sat up and vaguely glanced around my flat, unsure what to do now.  
That’s when, for some reason, my eyes fell on the small table by my front door directly in front of me. Was something different? Was something missing? No, what was that sat on the table?  
I threw my cushion to the side, striding over - my curiosity briefly overcoming my anger - and noticed what looked like a piece of paper sat under the little bowl that I kept my keys and loose change in. I didn’t remember leaving anything there. Was it just an old bill or note to myself?  
I slide the small piece of paper out from under the bowl and turned it over, almost dropping the paper when I recognised it.  
It was a photo of my old club.  
My photo.  
The photo I had left at the farm house.  
I didn’t know what to do. I was numb. I turned, leaning against my front door, before I crumpled to the floor so I sat crossed legged staring at my front door, the photo still in my hand.  
This was what I had told Frost the other week. Had he gone and got it for me?   
Why would he? He couldn’t possibly do it without the Joker knowing – and he had probably needed the Joker’s resources to get it back. Why would the Joker do this? Was it another way to get me to ‘smile’? And what was that all about? Surely he didn’t care whether I was happy or not – he was probably just sick of my frown, or was there, yet again something behind all this ‘smile’ plan. Was he just trying to cheer me up before he shot me down, was this just a sick game of his?  
I gazed unseeing in front of me, my expression blank, tears running silently down my cheeks.  
I sat in silence for a few moments, confused and feeling very alone as I processed everything.  
I lifted the photo once more and examined it, drinking in each detail.  
Time to leave the happiness in the past.  
The Joker wouldn’t see me smile.  
Then I tore the picture into tiny pieces.  
I bowed my head, squeezing my eyes tightly closed and my jaw clenched at the pain that washed through and overwhelmed me as I sobbed at the paper that littered my lap. 

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I ought to kill the girl for all the trouble she’s given me The Joker thought moodily, stuffing the photo back into his shirt pocket and draining the last of his amber liquid as music echoed throughout the darkened club. He then abruptly spun his stool, straightening up from where he had been hunched over the empty bar, and threw his glass at the wall opposite. He heard it shatter, then the rain of the fragments as they feel onto the floor.   
The destruction filled him with satisfaction.  
He grabbed the bottle of alcohol on the bar to his right which he had been using to refill his glass. He didn’t hesitating before he launching this too, making contact with the wall just below the previous impaction. The liquid painted the wall and slowly dripped its way down, tinted purple from the light on the paint behind it, before it pooled at the foot of the wall.  
The Joker pushed himself off his seat, sauntering over to the mess he had made, admiring his handiwork. He had cleaners for a reason after all. Might as well make them work for the money he paid them.  
He crouched, bending to pick up a particular shard of glass and walked to a nearby booth, all the while his eyes on the small piece of destruction in his hand as he spun it in his hand.  
Without looking he stepped up onto the booth’s cushioned seat and then onto the table, before – without faltering – he folded himself gracefully into a crossed-legged seat in the centre. A new song came on as he held the shard up, staring through it as he twirled it expertly between his fingers to, the dim orange light above him catching it as it moved.   
I dance around this empty house  
Tear us down  
Throw you out  
Screaming down the halls  
Spinning all around and now we fall  
Pictures framing up the past  
Your taunting smirk behind the glass  
This museum full of ash  
Once a tickle  
Now a rash  
This used to be a funhouse  
But now it's full of evil clowns  
It's time to start the countdown  
I'm gonna burn it down down down  
I'm gonna burn it down  
Nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, one, fun  
He spun the glass through his fingers faster and faster as the song played and his mind raced of the girl, replaying her performance in his mind, her lips forming and kissing each word out of her mouth as she pulled off her little plan. Soon his movements became too exuberant and there was a red streak, bright against his pale finger.  
He threw the glass fragment across the room and once again pulled the tatty photo from his shirt - creased with time but still clearly showing the old club. Humming to himself, he glanced at it and then watched the blood well in the cut before it began flowing down his hand.  
Oh, what a deadly voice.


	39. Chapter 39

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok guys, next part is ready!
> 
> I’m going to apologise now if this chapter makes no sense! I had two ways to go with the Bobby character in my head, neither of which I was hugely confident with so I just went for it! Sorry if this chapter makes no sense, I vaguely understand what I’m trying to get at so I hope it comes across right!Any questions let me know! 
> 
> Once again, sorry Frost isn’t really in character, i’m not very good at writing him because I don’t really know his personality vey well (I literally know about him from the few scenes he’s in from Suicide Squad movie!)
> 
> Anyway, hope you enjoy! :) I really appreciate the comments I’ve been getting recently so thank you soooo much!

A knock behind me made me jump, immediately silencing my sobbing. I silently scrambled to my feet as someone hammered on my front door.  
Had the Joker actually followed me home?! Oh God. Did I answer the door?  
No, at this point that was probably suicide!  
But if it was the Joker he’d find a way in anyway if he really wanted to!  
All the time I was whirling through my options the knocking at the door had stopped and I stood staring at the door, daring the noise to return, trying to keep my breath silent, hoping whoever it was would think I wasn’t in.  
The hammering on my door started again and I felt my heart racing under my skin. “[Y/N]?!” A voice called loudly from the hallway on the opposite side of the door. I froze. I knew that voice. But what –  
I quickly wiped my eyes with the back of hand in attempt to remove the traces of my tears before I pulled the door open, “Bobby?” I sniffed in surprise at the woman before me.  
“Oh [Y/N]!” She cried, waving her up and out wide as she wanted to hug me but held herself back. “You’re alright thank goodness!”  
I frowned in confusion at her, “Um – yeah.” I paused, “What are you doing here?” How did she know where I lived?  
“Well, when you failed to notice my obvious waving in the club I tried to reach you after rehearsals to warn you about the Joker,” She explained, “But then I saw you two together and – oh [Y/N] I was so scared – I wanted to help, but to be honest that guy scares the creeps out of me!” Bobby had managed to get herself into quite a state and seemed to nearly be in hysterics.  
“It’s alright Bobby!” I said, holding my hands out towards her as if she was a frightened animal as I tried to centre her back to some sense of calmness, “Breathe.” I commanded, “I’m fine, see?”  
She looked me up and down, her eyes still darting around frantically, “Yeah,” She agreed, nodding, thought she still seemed a bit frenzied.  
“Come on.” I told her, gesturing her into the room and closing the door shut behind us. I led her to the living room area of my flat and she seated herself on the two-seater sofa, her arms crossed, hugging them into her body. I was worried she was going to start rocking back and forth soon.  
“Do you need some tea?” I asked concerned for her mental state. She nodded vaguely and I moved into the kitchen to make some, all the time wondering what to do with the slightly crazed punk girl in my living room.  
Once I made us both a cup I placed them on the centre coffee table and took a seat in my arm chair to the left of the sofa. Bobby thanked me and took the cup in her hand blowing at it and taking a sip. “I’m sorry [Y/N],” She apologised, cupping the mug between her hands, “I came here to check on you and now you’re the one looking after me.”  
“No worries.” I said, brushing off her worries.  
“It’s just that the Joker really gets to me ya’ know?”  
“Yeah, I know.” I said vaguely, looking down into the mug.  
Bobby didn’t notice any change in me, too caught up in her own problems at the moment.  
We sipped our drinks in silence for a bit, each lost in own minds.  
“[Y/N]?” I looked up from my mug to meet Bobby’s eyes but she was looking over her shoulder at my front door, “What is all that confetti by your door?”  
I glanced to where she was looking, though I already knew what she was referring too, “Oh, um, nothing. Don’t worry about it.” I dismissed, not wanting to have to explain such a complicated story.  
She looked at me and I could see she was still intrigued but she dropped it, clearly sensing my mood.  
We sipped at our drinks in silence, neither sure what the best thing to say was in the moment.  
“Can ask why you work for the Joker if he affects you like this?” I broached, intrigued.  
“Only if I can ask you the same.” Bobby stated, looking up from her own drink.  
I frowned as I contemplated this. It was a good question. “I guess there’s something about him that keeps me sticking around.” I said deep in thought, “Maybe I still haven’t made my mind up about him.”  
“No offense hun, but I think you need to.” Said Bobby seriously. “This whole thing seems a bit messed up and is clearly taking its toll on you!” She gestured up and down at me as I sat there and I frowned, wondering if I really looked that bad, before I remembered that only a few moments ago I had been blubbering over a photo and I still hadn’t sorted myself out. I must look like a state.  
“And sweetie, whichever you choose you’ve gotta stick with it and embrace it” Bobby told me earnestly, “That means if decide you don’t like him you’re not around him. At all. Period. Best to leave if you can.” She confessed.  
I sat there in thought at her words. I wondered if the Joker would truly let me leave – he said he wanted to see me smile, would he let me go if that’s what my smile would cost?  
“But if you’re staying,” continued Bobby, “you need to truly be with him and embrace that – even if it’s means letting go to what you’re holding back.”  
I looked at her, confused what she meant by this but she met me a steely, determined look in her eye that told me that deep down I knew what she was saying was true.  
We fell back into silence, both sipping our now luke-warm tea. I rubbed absently at my sore eyes and I suddenly remembered how terrible I must look. I placed my now-empty cup down on the stained coffee table, making excuses about freshening up, before I then disappeared into my ensuite to escape the awkward silence.   
Safely hidden in my bathroom, I splashed water on my face, letting the coldness calm my red cheeks and rid some of the puffiness from my eyes. I ran a comb through my hair which stood up on ends where I had run my hands through it and gripped it in my earlier frustration.  
Just as I was trying to touch up my foundation to hide some of the redness around my eyes, there was a knock at the front door.  
I frowned at the bathroom door confused who that could be – why did everyone want to see me tonight?  
I quickly finished up what I was doing - now feeling much fresher and presentable – and headed back to Bobby, only - when I re-entered the main living space of my flat - Bobby was nowhere in sight.   
The knocking continued at my front door and I moved toward it whilst I glanced, very confused, around my now empty flat - where had Bobby gone?  
Was it her at the door? Why was she outside?  
“Bobby?” I asked, pulling open the door.  
“No.” Came the deep male voice and I froze as Frost appeared behind the door. He attempted a small smile of greeting at my surprised expression. “Good morning [Y/N].”  
“Morning?” I asked confused.  
“It’s 3am.” He clarified. He looked very clean and fresh for 3am in the morning, his facial hair trimmed to a very exact shape and not a single crease in his usual shirt and suit. His hands were folded neatly over one another in front of him as he waited patiently for me to invite him in.  
“Oh – right.” I said, still trying to get over the confusion of Bobby’s sudden departure and now Frost’s sudden appearance. It was like grand central station here. “Uh – come in.” I stammered, stepping back to allow him to enter.   
Frost stepped into the room, eying the torn scraps of paper on the floor with a hint of bewilderment.  
“Your gift.” I informed him and he lifted his eyes to me as I closed the door behind him.  
“[Y/N] I –“  
I held up a hand to stop him. “Just don’t – I don’t have the energy to deal with it now.” If we started talking about that now I couldn’t guarantee I wouldn’t break down once more and I couldn’t find it in myself to go through it all again.  
“Can I just ask why you bothered though?” I asked him, folding my arms over my chest and fixing him with a hard stare.  
He regarded me in silence for a moment, clearly planning his response, “I had hoped to cheer you up” he eventually confessed.  
“Why does everyone think it they’re job to cheer me up?!” I demanded, releasing my arms and pointing at myself and then him, “If I am feeling down it’s for me to deal with not you, not Bobby and definitely not the Joker!”  
“Well that was my thought to start with.” He admitted nonchalantly as I angrily pushed past him, striding into my flat till I stopped on the other side of the living room space. Frost turned so he followed my movements, his eyes not leaving mine, “However you have seemed to be ‘down’ for a long time now and don’t appear to be helping yourself.” He informed me.  
I hmphed at him to show my displeasure, I knew I was still annoyed at him but now I couldn’t think of a good reason why. It just confused me why he cared enough to try.  
“What are you here for?” I demanded, turning my annoyance to another matter as I glared at Frost who still stood in the entrance way to my flat. He moved forward at the question, heading past me to the sofa where only a few minutes ago Bobby had sat. I frowned again at this thought, where had she gone?!  
“The Joker sent me-“  
“Of course.” I muttered, already bored of the conversation.  
“-to check on you.” Frost finished, not taking notice of my interruption  
“Yeah right.” I muttered. “Look, if you can’t tell me - if you’re just here to spy on me or something - then just say it. No more lame excuses.” I told him, too tired to play our usual game of trying to draw the truth from one another.  
He didn’t say anything to this, but his silence spoke volumes and I growled in annoyance, throwing myself down into my armchair, my nearly empty cup still sat on the coffee table in front of me.  
Frost followed behind me slowly, sitting almost cautiously on the side of the sofa the furthest away from me.  
At least he understood about personal space.   
Frost eyed Bobby’s mug that sat opposite him on the coffee table, “[Y/N] can I ask?” He started gingerly and I glared at him in response. He ignored my attitude and continued anyway, “Who is this Bobby?”  
“Why’d you wanna know?” I snapped back.  
“The Joker has shown some interest.” He told me. I scowled at him, how did the Joker even know who Bobby was?  
“Tell him not to be jealous.” I taunted back snidely, “She’s just my friend from the club.”  
“How’d you meet?” He questioned and I looked at him suspiciously.  
“Why the third degree?” I asked back.  
“The Joker has –“  
“Shown some interest, I get it.” I droned back at him, nodding my head slightly to show my boredom at the standard learned response of his.   
I sighed loudly to show my annoyance at the situation, “She’s the bartender - she’s the only member of staff that talks to me.” I added.  
Frost raised his eyebrow at this, “The others seem to be afraid of me, probably because I ‘work’”, I quoted with my fingers, “for the Joker.” I explained, Frost nodded his understanding at this, he knew how the club game worked around here better than I did I imagined. However, he seemed to be mentally taking notes and I was worried all my staff were about to be fired or at least graced with a pretty nasty encounter with a thug at the least, if not Frost or the Joker himself.  
They’re all nice though,” I said hurriedly, hoping to save them even slightly, “They just don’t approach me much. Unlike Bobby who maybe lacks a bit of respect.” I muttered before remembering who I was talking to, “Uh – not that she’s a bad person, she is – she’s just not afraid to talk.” I defended quickly.  
Frost looked away from me with an expression of puzzlement. “The bartender doesn’t strike me as someone to run her mouth.”  
“Well she doesn’t run her mouth as such…” I trailed off lamely, still attempting to defend Bobby if I could. “Hang on, when have you been in the club?”  
Frost returned his gaze to me, “We have the occasional person stop in to inspect the establishment. We have also set up cameras around the club which are monitored.”  
“Cameras? Really?” I asked in disbelief and Frost nodded as if this was completely normal. It wasn’t like I was ashamed of anything that had been happening in the club but still, I didn’t think I was being watched 24/7. “Everywhere?” I verified, thinking back to my office where I often got changed into my outfits for my performances.  
“Mostly.” Answered Frost.  
“Even my office?!” I questioned in alarm.  
“No.” Said Frost, “The Joker insisted on that one.”  
Now that I was surprised about and I filed that nugget of information for a later date. For now I breathed a small sighed of relief.  
“This Bobby character,” Began Frost, picking back up on the earlier conversation, “You say she talks to you unlike everyone else? Why?”  
I was taken aback by the question, “Uh – I dunno.” I stuttered, why did she? “Guess she’s not afraid of the Joker? But God knows what drives Bobby - she seems to have quite a unique mind.” She’d certainly prattled on about some odd stuff before and I often wondered where her mind was at.  
Frost frowned, “Really? The girl always appeared quite reserved, very quiet for a bartender. She also seemed quite scared of the Joker when I interviewed her before she started working for you.”  
I furrowed my brow at him in confusion, were we talking about the same person, reserved? Quiet?   
“What’s reserved about a punk rocker?”  
“Punk rocker?” Frost asked, furrowing his brow in bewilderment.  
“Yeah,” I said, “Bobby, with her pink hair and fingerless gloves…” I trailed off when Frost looked at me like I’d lost my mind and had no idea who I was on about. “Why are you looking at me like that?”  
“[Y/N],” Frost said cautiously like I was insane, “I’ve looked at nearly all the tapes of the club, there has never been a girl fitting that description. I also certainly never okayed someone like that to work in the club.”  
I looked at him, my eyes widening at what he was saying. That was impossible, Bobby couldn’t just not exist. “You’re lying.” I excused him, but my voice was shaky and lacked any conviction.  
“No [Y/N], I’m not.” He told me straight fishing his smart phone out of his pocket and flicking through it. “Here.” He handed the phone to me and it showed a video of the club, the camera positioned so that to give a clear view of the whole bar.  
I cringed as I recognised the person sat hunched over the bar as myself, a folder of paperwork in front of me – I hated seeing pictures or videos of myself. I quickly glanced at the top of the screen where it stated the time and date – it was the day me and Bobby had chatted before the club opened when our conversation had turned to the Joker and I had explained our history.  
Except, as I watched, I went through all the actions I could remember of the night, yet no Bobby ever showed on the camera.  
I had jumped catching my breath, but there was no one there. I could just about make out my lips moving as I spoke, but there was none one to talk to. I watched as I straighten up on screen and I recalled how ‘Bobby’ had accused me of me of moping over the bar.  
I continued to watch the screen, awe struck as my pixels just stared at the wall opposite and spoke to thin air. Eventually the video finally showed myself getting up and leaving, but I still didn’t draw my eyes away from the phone screen and, shortly after I left the view of the camera, a young woman in a black skirt and plain T-shirt came out from the side of the shot with a cloth and cleaned up my glass before she began washing down the bar.  
Now that I remembered her. Georgia was it? I had never really spoken to her except from when I greeted all the staff and had completely forgotten what she said her job in the club was – after haven listen to 20 other people before her I had stopped caring really and begun to blank some of them out.  
“No.” I breathed in disbelief as I finally tore my eyes away from the screen and let my hand drop. Frost reached over and took the phone from me, easily prying my numb fingers off the device as I stared blankly ahead of me.  
Oh my god.  
Had I finally gone insane?  
But Bobby had been here this evening. She had sat in that chair. I thought glancing at the empty seat next to Frost on the sofa. She had drunk the mug of tea. I glanced at the empty mug on the table only to find it full of cold tea.  
No.  
I’d made a cup of tea for someone my insane mind had made up.  
What was happening to me?  
“[Y/N],” Frost started again, trying to bring me back to the real world, back to myself. I looked at him blankly, my mind still whirling through what I could only see as impossible.  
“Frost,” I breathed, “What’s happening to me?” I whimpered, scared that my mind could play this sort of a trick on me. I didn’t trust myself anymore, was Frost even here or was that just my messed-up mind wanting company? “Frost are you real?” I mumbled.  
“I don’t know how to prove that, but I am.” He tried to reassure me. I must have looked ridiculously pitiful to him but I needed any comfort I could get at the moment. He was right though; he couldn’t prove it, my mind could just be making him say that and in fact he wasn’t truly here.  
How could I trust anything anymore if my mind could make up this elaborate an illusion, if it had managed to trick me for over a week now that a whole person existed who in fact had never stepped foot in this world?  
How much of my life had been my head messing with me, how had I got this bad? Was anything I had done real or had it been a weird dream. How could I prove anything was true?  
How did you prove a dream wasn’t real? Usually because it’s surreal, but all this was to realistic. What else?  
Touch. In dreams, I always found I couldn’t touch anything properly. And I never touched Bobby.  
I reached out and gripped Frost’s hand tightly. Warm, rough, solid. Real.  
I breathed a sigh of relief and then quickly retracted my hand, folding it with my other in my lap, very aware of what I had just done. “Sorry.” I apologised quickly, “I just wanted to check.” Frost nodded mutely in understanding, dismissing the act.  
I breathed deeply, my breath wobbly as the shock hit me. “Frost?” I asked, down at my hands, “What is happening to me?” I looked up at him squarely in the eye, genuinely wanting an answer this time.  
He studied me, clearly unsure what to say to the mess of a girl before him. “I can’t be sure.” He stated and I dropped my head again in defeat. “I’ve spent my fair share of time around those in Arkham though,” he told me, “And I’ve seen similar things, though generally more severe cases.”  
“From what I’ve gathered, it’s generally seen as a more developed version of voices in the mind. I believe Nigma may have suffered from it at one point.” Frost explained. Great I thought, I’m just as sane as the Riddler.  
We fell back into a moment of silence as I processed the fact I should probably be in a mental asylum. I suddenly sat up, “Hang on, you said ‘at one point’, does he not anymore?”  
“I don’t believe so.”  
“How’d he stop it?” I asked desperately, clinging to any hope I could get that I might still be able to be normal.  
Frost eyed me warily, clearly reluctant to tell me. “[Y/N], has this ‘Bobby’, ever told you to do anything?”  
I frowned in confusion at the odd question but thought back on it anyway, “Uh, no, well, she – it – told me to make a decision. About the Joker.” I added quickly, “Whether to leave or to pursue it.” I admitted quietly.  
Frost nodded, “Sound’s like she was talking some sense.” I shot him a dark look but he ignored it. “Anything else?” Frost pushed.  
“I guess some of our chats were a bit odd, some I guess were even quite dark.” I mumbled. I had always put that down to her bad-ass personality and I often found her bubbliness mitigating what she said. I hesitated, lost in thought, “Like, she’d often tell me about what she’d like to do to a few choice people, but I’d always take it in jest and I always kind of agreed with her – all in a hypothetical sense!” I quickly added when Frost raised his eyebrow at me again.  
“Did these conversations happen when you were particularly annoyed or angry at someone?” He asked and I couldn’t help but feel like I was in a therapy session already.  
“Well – yeah,” I admitted, looking back at it, “But I just figured she was being a good friend, ya’ know? In a sorta - you annoy my friend, you annoy me kinda thing. All hypotheticals.”  
Frost eyed me again, thinking through what I was saying and clearly seeing something I couldn’t.   
“What are you thinking?” I asked quietly, intrigued by the look of concentration on his face.  
He hesitated a minute before he spoke, still thinking through his response. “Nigma got rid of his delusion” I flinched at the word, “by embracing it.” Frost told me with a grim look on his face, knowing that wasn’t what I wanted to hear. I frowned, what did he mean?  
Frost continued on, “I believe you are very similar to the cases I’ve seen. I’ve noticed recently that you seem to have two distinct personalities within you. The side you have previously always shown - the generally good member of society who knows what is acceptable and expected of her - and then the more recently established one. The one probably triggered by the Joker’s influence and interactions with you that has shown you the true chaos and entropy in life and the side that now wants to explore it and push the boundaries the other side knows you shouldn’t.  
“Your minds been fighting these two – probably longer than you realise. I personally noticed it ever since you admitted to wanting to shoot that girl over the newspaper article months ago.” Frost told me. “From what I gather from the inmates at Arkham, it would seem that the mind can no longer take the battling within it from the 2 sides and instead finds a less painful way to deal with the opposition by creating a new ‘person’ to portray these darker thoughts. That is Bobby.”  
I paused to drink this in, “You’re saying that ‘Bobby’ is just my ‘bad’ side?”  
“Not ‘bad’ as such…” Trailed off Frost, “Just maybe more… rebellious.” He suggested.   
I leant forward resting my elbows on my thighs and burying my face in my hands letting out a groan. Frost sat watching me, unsure what his best move was now.   
“Just be glad that you have only 2 ‘people’ in your mind, I’ve heard that some people can have 12.” Frost informed me.  
“If you’re trying to comfort me it’s not working.” I told him through my hands.  
Frost clearly got the message, “I’ll make you a drink.” He suggested and I watched between my fingers as he pushed himself to his feet and grabbed the empty mug in front of me and the other full mug made for my delusional mind. I hid my eyes at the thought, not saying anything to Frost.  
How can my mind be so messed up?  
After a few moments, I felt a presence above me and a soft tap on the coffee table. I lifted my head weakly to see that Frost had placed a small tumbler filled with a clear liquid in front of me. I picked it up and sipped at it, immediately regretting it as I contorted my face into a grimace as the strong liquor hit my taste buds.  
I had expected water, but I guess I couldn’t be surprised that Frost’s idea of a comfort drink was alcoholic.  
“Frost?” I mumbled, staring into the liquid as I twirled it around in my glass with one hand, the other handing limply as I rested it on my leg. I could hear him wandering around behind me and a part of me wondered what he was doing, but at the moment I mainly didn’t care.  
I took another sip of the disgusting liquid, happy with the burn on the back of my throat and I threw the rest of it back, setting the now-empty glass on the table. “’Bobby’ also mentioned something else.” I paused, as I felt a wave of a headache come over me - maybe I should have insisted Frost gave me water instead. I carried on anyway, absently rubbing the aching section of my head. “She insisted that the Joker wanted to harm me. That because I ran from him and left him he would want revenge.” I paused, the pain in my head escalating. I let my head fall once more into my hands as I clutched at my forehead, my brain feeling like it was physically pounding against my skull, drowsiness and nausea washing over me. The silence from Frost was unsettling me, surely, he could see I was in agony, “Was she right?” I asked, no able to manage more than a whisper.  
Suddenly an arm was around my neck, yanking me against the back of the chair. Before I could even gasp a damp cloth was placed over my mouth. I closed my eyes as I had been pulled backwards and now I couldn’t seemed to find the energy to open them. I tried to yell through the fabric but it was suffocating me and I couldn’t seem to even open my mouth anymore.  
The last thing I could remember was being glad the pain in my head was finally starting to numb.


	40. Chapter 40

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow. 40 parts. I didn’t even mean to make it 20 parts long…. Opps.
> 
> Well here’s the next bit, I’ve played around with how this was going to work a so I apologise if there is a few mistakes or some things that don’t make sense - I probably missed it when I was editing.
> 
> Good news though - I think I’ve finally figured out how to end the series so there will probably be about 2-3 more parts….maybe. I don’t know, I always say that and then make it twice as long, but we’ll see, I’m going to try to start winding it down now!
> 
> Thank you to everyone one still reads my work! :D

When I woke up I was calm. For a moment at least.  
And then consciousness began to flood back to me, bringing with it my memories. I snapped my eyes open in alarm at my sudden recollection of everything and panicked even more when I came face to face with a wall of darkness.  
Where ever I was, it was pitch black.  
I almost jumped when a masculine voice sounded behind me and I could feel my heart racing in my chest.  
“-bloody stuck here! Babysitting!” It cried in annoyance, “You had to go and hit her with both, didn’t you?” Clearly addressing another person, “Couldn’t have fuckin’ chosen one like you were supposed to?!”  
Sure enough, another voice came out of the dark, this one closer, as though the man was directly behind my head. “I panicked!” It defended, “Frickin’ Johnny messed me up and then she wouldn’t stop bloody moaning and holding her head!”  
They were talking about me. About what had knocked me out. I listened in carefully, trying to gain any bits of information from that might explain what had happened and what was going to happen now.  
“You’re so dead, mate.” Muttered the first voice with a slight dark chuckle.  
“Don’t you fuckin’ joke about something like that, man!” Cried the other man indignantly.  
“Who said I was joking? You’re the bloody idiot that hit her with two loads of knockout drugs.” Pointed out the first man, “When boss man finds about all of this shit you ain’t gonna live to see tomorrow, mate.”  
“But she’s just a bloody girl - ”  
“Harv.” The other man interrupted him, “Give it up, man. If she was ‘just a girl’ he wouldn’t go through this shit to get her.” There was a lull in the conversation, ‘Harv’ possibly thinking through his actions and how he could justify it to the ‘boss’. “Face it man. Get your affairs in order now.” The other guy told him, now seeming to take pity on the other guy.  
“She’s just a fuckin’ girl, Stu!” Harv protested desperately, not accepting his sealed fate, “And she’s fine!”  
“You think.” Pointed out ‘Stu’, “She’s been out for far too long and – dude - you could have killed her with that shit load of knockouts.”  
“If anyone should get the blame it’s fuckin’ Johnny!” Harv insisted heatedly, “I had two options – drink or cloth. I was supposed to make the bloody call! But Frosty went ahead and made the frickin’ drink anyway before I was ready!” Harv exclaimed.  
“So why the hell did you give her the cloth as well?!”  
“Because she then bloody went and collapsed into her own hands, groaning in pain! Then, of course I had fuckin’ Frosty signing at me across the room to do something! I did the first thing that came to me and…” The silence indicated him miming something to Stu.  
“Mate…” Stu groaned in exasperation at Harv.  
“I didn’ know it was gonna bloody be like that!” Harv protested, “The batch must’ve been stronger this time or something!”  
“You really think Boss is gonna care that your bloody drugs were a bit fuckin’ stronger than usual?” Demanded Stu, “Good luck even getting a bloody word in before there’s a bullet in your head.”  
“Ah man Stu, I’m fucked.” Breathed Harv, finally seeming to accept his fate.  
Stu murmured a confirmation and then they fell into silence, Harv probably trying to find a way out of the early grave he’d dug for himself.  
I had listened to every word they had said and a few things had fallen into place in my mind  
I had been knocked out by this man ‘Harv’ with both a spiked drink and a cloth of some sort of knock out agent – probably chloroform or similar. ‘Harv’ seemed to have been working with Frost which probably meant I had been knocked out by the Joker for some reason and the men behind me were henchmen of his.  
My main question was: why?  
I didn’t think I was going to get an answer very quickly, especially not stuck here in the dark – wherever here was.  
The silence persisted and I didn’t want to waste the time I had so I tried to see what I could gather from the little area that was available to me. I slowly moved my hands over whatever I was lying on. Leather. Odd.  
My eyes had now adjusted somewhat to the dark around me and I could make out the outline of the edge of what I was on above me. It seemed to be some sort of sofa or chair. I glanced down at my feet, attempting to move as little as possible to avoid the notice of the men behind me. There was a window about a foot or 2 above my legs. It suddenly became clear to me.  
I was in a car.  
I cautiously returned my head to its original position and it was now obvious to me that I was lying along the back seat of a car and the blackness in front of me was back of the leather passenger seat. That meant that the men I had heard talking were sat in the front seats of the car, directly behind me.  
There was, however, no sound of an engine or any vibrations coming up through the chair so we must be parked up somewhere. Why? Were we waiting for something?  
And what did I do now with this information?  
I considered my options for escape. If I tried anything I highly doubted I would be able to overwhelm the two men in the car with me and - even if I did - I couldn’t be sure that there was no one waiting outside of the car. I also had no idea where I was to even try to run for safety – I didn’t want to end up lost or cornered with the Joker’s entire mob hunting me down.  
I had to face the fact that I didn’t really have any plausible options of escape yet. I would have to wait here and hope for something to happen that might provide me with a chance to do something more than pretend to be unconscious. So instead I focused on remaining as still as possible and trying to keep my breathing even and slow, as if I was still sleeping.  
I don’t know how long I lay there waiting for something to happen but all of a sudden interior of the car was lit with a yellow glow, beams of light moving across the small section of the car roof I could see above me.  
“Looks like that’s them.” Came Stu’s voice and Harv grunted in acknowledgement. I could hear a car engine approaching and the light brightened as the engine growl got louder. Then we were plunged into darkness again but the noise continued, indicating the car had passed us. Suddenly the seat beneath me vibrated and our car choked into a loud roar of life before it settled into a low rumble, the seat beneath me slightly bouncing.  
I could feel my heart racing again, were we following them? Were we going to a new location? Where were we going? What would happen then?  
However, instead of the car moving forward like I had planned, I heard both of the men behind me click open their doors before they were then closed with a soft thud.  
I braced myself - waiting for them to open one of the doors to get me - but nothing happened.   
After waiting a few minutes with still no sound of anyone near the car I decided I was probably safe enough to warily push myself upright a bit. When I lifted my head felt like it was stuffed with cottonwool, the grogginess from the drugs not having completely gone. I squinted as I pushed myself up a bit further, my head still aching dully, but I tried to ignore it.  
I tried to stay low, partially so I could drop to my original pose should anyone suddenly appear, and partially due to my weak muscles in case they no longer felt able to support me.  
I shuffled to the window by my head, breathing out an sigh of relief when I recognised that the window glass was tinted and a quick glance at the rest of the windows also proved this. Thank god – no one would be able to see me moving about in here.  
I returned my attention to the window in front of me, now pulling myself up so I sat completely up, partially collapsed against the back of the seat and the car door. My whole body still felt numb apart from my head that pounded at my forehead. I peered through the window, anxiously scanning the visible area. It was pitch black outside most of the car, the surroundings only dimly lit by the headlights of the car which had come on when the men had started the engine. From what I could gather with the use of the poor lighting, I was facing some sort of brick or concrete wall.  
I frowned. That wasn’t particularly helpful.  
I slid my way to the window on the right hand-side of the car, repeating my action. I quickly ducked when I noticed a group of about four men standing together a few metres away, illuminated by the light from the headlamps.  
Folded down onto the back seat and hidden behind the bulk of the car door I let my heart rate calm slightly, before I remembered they couldn’t see into the car and I chided myself for my stupidity before rising once more to the window.  
I took my time now. Glancing to my left the headlights illuminated the men and further on the tarmacked road disappeared into the darkness, no noticeable road markings apparent to me. Were we on a minor road?  
In front of me the weaker outer rays of the headlights caught another wall opposite. Were we in an alley?  
I glanced to the right before realising my view was limited and I shuffled along the back seat to look out the rear window. At least 100 metres away was a rectangle of light. I could just make out the outline of the pavement and a building directly opposite. That must be the road.  
So, we must be down one of Gotham city’s many alleyways.  
If I could make it to the main road out there I could probably find a place to hide or evade the men.  
My problem however was the fact I was still stuck in the car.  
I glanced back to the men that still stood chatting, their breath catching the limited light as it rose around in the chilly darkness. They didn’t look heavily armed, but they all must have at least a gun and/or knife with them and I was sure they wouldn’t hesitate to shoot me if I made a runner.  
That was if my door was even unlocked in the first place, I thought, glancing down at where I knew the handle was hidden in the dark, the light not quite reaching back behind the front seats.  
So what did I do? Just sit here, hoping that a chance presented itself for me to escape? Or try and get out somehow without them hearing me?  
I glanced around the car, hoping to find something I could use to help me. The car interior looked expensive and from what I could gather it looked to be one of the many large 4x4 vehicles the henchmen often used. I checked the checked the pockets attached to the back of the front seats. Empty. I dug around in the compartments in each of the passenger doors. Nothing.  
“Morning.” Came a feminine voice suddenly from the front of the car and I felt my heart skip a beat as I jumped at the noise, “Jeez!” I gasped, my hands gripping the leather seats as I stared directly at Bobby who now sat, looking very relaxed, in the driver’s seat.   
“Sorry hun – again.” Said Bobby with an apologetic smile. I stared at her with wide eyes - after all I’d been through tonight, she was still here?! She was in her usual attire of a dark pink skirt, black shirt and netted fingerless gloves, her glasses perched on the end of her nose.  
“What do you want?!” I hissed at her, before chastising myself for talking to a figment of my imagination.  
“Well I figure,” She said waving her hand around the car as an explanation, “You could use some help.”  
“Oh yeah?” I retorted quietly, trying to keep my voice to a whisper – I didn’t know how sound proof the car was. “And you think you can?”  
“Uh-huh.” She nodded, pushing her glasses back into placed. “Check –“  
“No.” I snapped, cutting her off “You’re just a very vivid thought process – you can’t possibly know anything I don’t! So, you can’t be any help!”  
She fell silent but she looked at me with pity. I scowled at her before turning back to my previous search, ignoring her.  
I push myself to my feet, ignoring the light-headedness that washed over me, and stepped toward the centre of the car, trying to reach the front seats where I prayed there might be something useful. However, as I lifted my back foot I caught it on something and I flailed helplessly before I fell into the foot well. I cursed myself and my now bruised knee.  
I kept my red face directly away from Bobby – who I was glad to hear, remained silent - and instead looked to see what I could possibly have tripped over. I groped blindly under the chair for the obstacle before I settled on some sort of metal or plastic which I pulled at. After a few tugs it came free and I looked at it in shock.  
An assault rifle.  
“For the henchmen in emergencies.” Bobby explained over the top of the seat, clearly already aware of their existence. I scowled down at the weapon before shooting a glare up at her from where she peered at me.  
“And how the hell did you know this was here?!” I demanded.  
“I may ‘just be you’,” She quoted back at me, “But I’m a very distinct part of you – a part that thinks of things like hidden weapons in the bad guys cars and the part that might hear things subconsciously that you never really tune into!” She said cheerfully, obviously proud of herself.  
I glared at her again before returning my attention back to the gun in my hand. I had never properly trained with an assault rifle before, but I had the basic idea of how to use it. I glanced around again - if there was a gun there was bound to be ammo somewhere.  
“Compartment under the foot mat.” Chimed in Bobby. I paused, not wanting to take her advice, but I couldn’t let my pride delay my escape so I looked anyway. Sure enough, in a box in the floor of the foot well lay at least 10 magazines. I grabbed one, smoothly clipping it into place and ensuring the gun was on safety for now - I didn’t want to shoot them if I didn’t have to. “You sure?” Came Bobby’s voice with a knowing smile and I shot another glare back up to her.  
“Get outta my head!” I snarled quietly. She simply giggled at my impossible demand.  
I turned my gaze away from her, now focusing on what I had to do. I eyed the left car door which had looked out to the brick wall. That was my best bet, then I had the cover of the car to hide behind straight away and if I opened the door quietly enough the engine noise should hopefully hide the sound.   
I took a deep breath, preparing myself.  
“Wait!”  
“What?!” I snapped rounding on Bobby.  
“I can help.” She suggested.  
“No.” I said, the idea ridiculous to me. I couldn’t trust her, not based on her past record where she’d already made me threatened, stab and shoot people, let alone flirting with the Joker. She was a loose cannon and what was worse, there was times when I enjoyed it. No, I couldn’t let her free again, she might hurt more people or become too reckless and get me killed. I had no control. “Definitely not.” I confirmed sternly.  
“[Y/N] listen to me! Your treating me like I’m another person - a stranger. I’m not. I’m you. I’m a part of you whether you like it or not!” She cried, her usually chilled, cheerful self disappearing, instead she had a fiery passion. I sat in a stunned silence and she made the most of this, “Now,” She said, giving me a small smile and returning to her calmness - glad I was now listening, “we can either work against each other, you fighting and supressing me until you’re too tired to do it anymore and I break free for a few hours. OR you can finally accept me and we can work together – both of us in control, no more fighting.” She reasoned.  
I turned away from her, staring at the darkness that engulfed the floor, running through what she had said. Finally, I glanced up at her and she looked hopeful at me. I took a deep breath but then abruptly turned and opened the car door.   
I breathed a sigh of relief when it unlocked and I pushed it open, slipping out so I crouched down to the tarmac. I could hear the men now, all talking animatedly with each other, none of them seeming to have heard the door open. I cast a last look back into the blackness of the car but Bobby was gone. It didn’t reassure me.   
I pushed the door shut, trying to keep it controlled and quiet, but I made a fatal mistake in releasing the door too soon and it closed with a thud.  
I froze the moment I realised my mistake. Shit.  
The men immediately fell silent. “Did you guys hear that?” Came Stu’s voice  
“Sounded like the car.”  
“Couldn’t be. Probably just a cat in a dumpster or something.”  
“Yeah you get noises like that all the time down these alleys.”  
“I think I saw something move.” Said Harv  
“Probably just a rat” Dismissed another guy.  
“Yeah, you’re probably jumpy because you’re a goner.” Said Stu suggestively, humour colouring his voice and the other two men burst in laughter, sharing in an inside joke.   
“Whatever, I’m checking it out anyway.” Mutter back Harv, not appreciating the joke on his behalf, and I heard footsteps advancing towards the car and me. I panicked, retreating to the back of the car and fumbling with the rifle in my lap, my mind going blank.  
Suddenly Bobby was crouched next to me leaning against the bumper between me and Harv. “Let me help!” She demanded. I ignored her, trying to focus on what I was doing with the weapon.  
“You know what you need to do!” She told me, “Nothing I have ever done has made our lives worse! I’ve only ever made it better!” She persisted, whispering frantically in my ear as the footsteps got closer.   
“I’m not the bad guy [Y/N]! He is!” She cried pointing to around the edge of the car where Harv was advancing on us, “Let me help!” She insisted urgently.  
“Ergh!” I cried in frustration throwing my shoulder into her and I followed the momentum round so I crouched, gun pointing around the side of the 4x4 at the man advancing. The darkness hid my position and he moved without hesitation toward me.  
I aimed, clicked off the safety and –   
Gun fire went off and he fell forward in front of me, bleeding out from a hole in the back of his head.


	41. Chapter 41

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys, next part is about ready, I’ve been messing around with it a bit, but decided this one is probably better off shorter than normal. The start is a bit rough (I just couldn’t figure out how to write it) but it gets a bit better after that!
> 
> Anyway - hope you enjoy and thank you for you continual support!
> 
> Also if anyone wants me to try requests I am happy to have a go! Be it imagines, one parts or multi part fan fics! Just let me know :)

There were a couple of reasons my head ached in that moment – one, the lingering effect of whatever knockout drugs had been given to me, and two, the snap decision I had made to work with Bobby and get her back in my head.  
I was regretting that now.  
A weird sensation had overcome me when I shoved into her – like someone had poured a bucket of cold water over me – and then there had been the intense feeling of my head ripping open, though I felt no pain. Now I was still crouched at the back of the 4x4 in a cold sweat and shivering as I stared at the dead body lying in front of me.  
Had Bobby done that in the transition? I had been attempting to do it myself, but I couldn’t seem to ready the gun in my panic - that’s what had finally decided for me to work with Bobby – to save my life.   
I had expected chaos to ensue at the gun shot - for the other guards to start yelling, running at me or firing their own weapons - but it was completely silent, no movement apparent out of the corner of my eyes as I stared at the body.  
I could see the perfectly round hole in his skull and watched the blood that trickled down the side of his face, pooling somewhere in the dark on the tarmac.  
I swallowed dryly, did Bobby really make me do that? At least she was gone now, safely back in my head. I’d done it for my best interest really – at least that’s what I had told myself. At the time, I needed to be able to do something about the henchman coming at me, now I felt like I would need the confidence and strengths of Bobby to deal with the Joker. And, if what she said was true, I would feel far more in control of what I was doing this time – not just when I got angry – I just needed to embrace it properly. However, judging by the corpse in front of me, I wasn’t sure if she’d been telling the truth.  
But yet, the bullet hole - still oozing a dark blood that glinted in areas thanks to small patch of light in front of me - was in the back of his head. How could I have shot him in the back of his head – unless somehow the bullet had gone completely through his skull.  
But had I even been aiming at his head?  
Just then, a cold cackle broke the alley’s silence.  
I knew that laugh, it made my heart drop and my body tense. And it was coming from directly in front of me.  
I snapped my head, and - sure enough - the Joker was stepping into the patch of light in front of the 4x4, his eyes on me.   
“You should see yourself doll…” He purred lowly, “Like a deer caught in the headlights!” I saw his eyes drop to my hands where I still cradled the assault rifle, the safety still off and barrel still pointed in his direction.  
A grin spread across his face, knowing and humoured by my actions. “Ah, I see you’ve come prepared... But, ya’ know kitten, it’s rude to take what’s not yours.” He told me and suddenly my weapon was seized from behind me and yanked roughly out of my hands causing me to fall over onto my hands and knees on the road, the gravel biting into my palms.  
I had been too busy worrying about the Joker in front of me I hadn’t clocked the two-hulking henchman that had appeared behind me. A glance back over my shoulder now showed the vague outlines of the two large men, one of them fiddling with my gun and expertly removing the loaded magazine. Damn.  
“That’s a bit better.” Said the Joker pleasantly and I snapped my head back round to see him swaggering his way toward me, the light from the headlamps only exaggerating the dark shadows around his eyes and his sharp jaw line. “Don’t want anyone to get hurt now do we?” He asked as he moved to the edge of the lit area, his face falling into shadow but I could still see his hand beckoning me to him.  
I hesitated too long and was harshly yanked to my feet by one of the henchmen behind me. I pulled away angrily from the man’s grip, shooting a death glare into the darkness behind me where I could just make out the facial features of a large brutish man.  
I returned my gaze to the Joker who had remained where he was. Waiting. I walked slowly towards him, not giving him the satisfaction of thinking he scared me - though my heart racing under my skin gave it away.  
I stepped into the pool of light with him and I noticed what the simple white shirt he wore was only done up at the last few buttons, exposing his toned chest and the gold chains that draped his neck. I was also acutely aware of the gun holsters that hung over his shoulders. “[Y/N],” The Joker greeted, and I returned my gaze to his eyes, “As beautiful as always.” He grinned slyly at me and I eyed him suspiciously, knowing I probably looked at state and nowhere close to my usual standard, let alone beautiful.  
“Joker, as charming as ever I see.” I retorted, much to my shock.   
Joker beamed at me in delight however, his metal teeth catching the yellow light. “Maybe we ought to drug you more often, doll.” He said, “You seem far more…” He searched for the word, “Amiable.”   
Whilst I couldn’t deny that my head still felt particularly uncomfortable and groggy, I was afraid that in my right mind I probably still would have said that. This new-found confidence was scary, but thrilling - just like being around the Joker.  
“What do you want?” I asked out right with a frown, not willing to play his little games.  
“I love it when you sweet talk me, baby.” He grinned devilishly, leaning in towards me, trying to make me uncomfortable with the lack of personal space. I remained unfazed, now quite use to his little quirks, and continued to scowl at him. His smile dropped, “Fine, kill the fun.” He said, waving a hand in dismissal and straightening himself back upright again. “I have a proposition for you, Doll.” He finally declared.  
I immediately didn’t like the sound of this and the Joker must have noticed because he wagged his finger warningly at me, “Ahh Ahh Doll. Hear me out – you’re gonna love this.”  
I couldn’t help but be a little intrigued and I crossed my arms over my chest, waiting for him to continue. He raised his invisible eyebrows at my attempt to seem blasé and unconcerned, but let it pass. “You, doll, are going to come with me and stay in one of my safehouses for…” He rolled his neck, his eyes searching the darkness as he thought it through, “Let’s say a week.” He decided.  
I frowned at him in confusion at this ridiculous suggestion, “Why on Earth would I do that?” I demanded, the weirdness of the request cracking my uncaring façade.  
“I told you, Doll…” He drawled, taking a step forward and reaching out with one hand towards my face, and I instinctively flinched back, even though he paused halfway. “… I need to see you smile.” He purred, smiling his metal grin at the word and twisting the wrist of his outstretched hand, his fingers closing one by one into a fist. He paused a moment, his eyes lingering on my lips before he snapped his gaze back to mine. “So we’re going to have a little game.” He purred, pulling his hand back, “A week to get you to smile – or laugh – I’ll take either.” He grinned menacingly.  
“You’re making me want to laugh at the very idea.” I told him, teasing but not breaking out of my serious expression.  
He looked almost shocked at what I had said, “Don’t toy with me doll, if I didn’t know better I’d think you were trying to be funny.”  
I shrugged, slightly amused by his stunned expression. “So, what happens if you don’t make me smile within a week?” I asked.  
“Well here’s the real fun, doll.” He said, his smile returning, “We’re going to place a little bet. If I can’t make you smile by the end of a week then I’ll give you what you want. I’ll leave you alone for good.” I was shocked. Was the Joker actually offering me a way out of this silly charade we’d been playing – a way to get away from him forever without having to resort to previous extremes? And all I had to do was to survive one week with him and not smile? That surely wasn’t hard to do. His humour wasn’t particularly in my taste and a lot of the things he did would make most people scream or break down, not smile.  
I frowned, not convinced on how sincere he was being – what was the catch? “What happens if you win?” I asked, “If you did manage to make me smile?”  
He grinned widely at me, “The one thing that I want.”  
And what’s that?” I asked, almost afraid to know.  
“Well, we’ll just see wont we?” He told me with a wide grin  
I didn’t like the sound of that. Who knew what he wanted from me.  
But if I said no – if I thought the risk was too high - what would happen then? Would he just let me go here and now and we return to normal? Or was there no actual option here – was it more of a demand that this was happening whether I wanted it to or not? It wasn’t like I could do anything – I was stood maybe 2-3 foot away from the Joker himself and I knew that lurking in the shadows was at least 5 henchmen - if not more. So, did I really have a choice?  
But if I did agree, could I guarantee that I wouldn’t smile for a whole week with him? I would have thought it was easy to not smile around him. And surely, being a busy crime lord, he wouldn’t be around that much anyway? He definitely wouldn’t want a pathetic girl hanging off his shoulder all day, every day, so would I just be alone most of the time anyway?   
All the time I considered this the Joker watched me intently - maybe trying to predict my response - though he must know that he had me stuck and there was really only one proper answer.  
So, what’da’ya say, doll?” He asked, leaning toward me again, “I’ll give you good odds!” He grinned innocently.  
I scowled at him before finally admitting what I knew I’d have to say all along. “Fine.”  
A roguish smile spread across his face before it widened to a grin. “Wonderful.” He purred, “Frosty will escort you to your new home.”  
“Where are you going?” I asked, once more surprised by my boldness.  
The Joker also seemed surprised at the question, already heading back into the darkness of the alley and pausing with his back to me. I panicked, worried I’d gone too far and he’d turn around with a gun or a knife.  
Instead he turned his head back over his shoulder at me, “I have a few more bits of business to clear up.” He told me darkly, his eyes were dangerous but I knew it wasn’t aimed at me, none the less I felt myself shiver. With that he had turned back and strode off into the blackness, out of sight.  
There would be a few more bodies in the morgue tomorrow – I could guarantee it.  
Suddenly I felt a hand land on my shoulder and I jumped, spinning to face my assailant only to see Frost stood behind me, slightly taken aback by my reaction.  
“Sorry, [Y/N].” Frost apologised quickly, holding his hands up in surrender, “The cars over here.” He told me, gesturing behind him with the thumb of his right hand. I followed him in silence, trying to let the new situation sink in.  
We reached the car – another 4x4 – and Frost opened the passenger door for me. I hesitated before sliding in, “Frost, can I ask…” I started, lifting my gaze to his face as I folded myself into the car. He nodded, “What have I got myself into?”  
Frost paused, “I honestly don’t know, [Y/N].” he admitted before closing the car door on me with a thud.


	42. Chapter 42

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys, okay this one I wrote quite quickly and tbh nothing really happens in that is particularly exciting but I wanted to write this scene and its already 2000 words (probably because I describe things waaaayyy too much) so I’m going to cut it off here otherwise it would be a really long part.
> 
> So anyway, yeah, sorry it’s not particularly exciting - the next one will have the Joker and probably be a bit more interesting!
> 
> Enjoy anyway! :)

I sat in silence as Frost drove us to the ‘safehouse’. I didn’t know where we were going and I couldn’t make anything out particularly through the windows - the night still too dark and the street lights only illuminating small patches of pavement and walls.  
I stared, without really seeing, out of the windows, my mind elsewhere and my eyes slowly growing heavy – the fact it was still the early hours of the morning catching up on me.  
I must have fallen asleep at some point because I suddenly snapped my head upright, opening my eyes to find Frost turning the car into a garage, am automatic light having sprung on and lit up the driveway.  
“Where are we?” I asked, my voice croaky from lack of use, and I glanced around in an attempt to get any sense of bearings.  
“The mansion.” Frost told me, “Boss thought this was the best place for you.” He parked the car and got out, hitting a light switch somewhere in the dark that caused a sudden eruption of harsh artificial light to fill the garage and temporarily blinding me. I blinked rapidly, waiting for my eyes to adjust. Finally, I could see we were in a huge garage that was filled with numerous other vehicles. I climbed out of the car, staring wide eyed at the collection before me. There were at least 4 other 4x4s, a couple of motor bikes and several very expensive-looking sports cars that were probably worth even more than the mansion itself.  
Frost didn’t linger, leading me straight to a small, discrete door in front of us. I followed him down a short passage and up a small flight of stairs before we reached another door which Frost unlocked, and opened into yet more darkness. I followed blindly behind Frost as he strode out without hesitation, hitting another light switch on his left. The sudden light dazzled me again, but it didn’t take as long to recover this time and was soon able to look around at the new room, quickly realising we had just come out from a door positioned under the grand staircase I had seen the first time I had been in this house. The wall of knives I remembered was on my left, the hilts jutting out at odd angles from where the blades were embedded in the plaster, some obvious gouges out of the wall where a knife had clearly hit but not become stuck in the wall.  
I continued on behind Frost as he led me around the stairs, revealing the familiar scene of the large entrance hall to the mansion, multiple doors leading off from the left, the stair case to the right and the front door directly in front of me. The walls were still as I remembered, riddled with bullet holes and decorated in graffiti. And he wanted me to stay here?   
Frost didn’t stop, leading me across the marble floor and up the wide stair case. I was slightly out of breath when I reached the top but Frost didn’t let up, showing no outward sign of fatigue and continuing down a long hallway. He finally stopped outside a door at what I believed to be the back left of the house. He unlocked it with a small key he already had in his pocket pushing it open and standing back to let me in first.  
I warily stepped into the room and was amazed by the sheer size of it. The walls were dark green with gold embellishments swirled in a chaotic pattern. Directly in front of me were two large glass doors framed by dark curtains, which appeared to lead onto a white stone balcony. To my right was a huge queen four-poster bed with a purple and gold bedspread that matched the dark purple curtains hanging from each bed post.  
To my left were two doors which I quickly discovered were a large modern en-suite and a walk-in closet. It was - as I stood in the spacious closet (which was probably the same size as the room in my flat) that I suddenly remember I didn’t have any of my possessions.  
“Frost!” I called from the doorway of the closet, turning to where he had stood silently, just inside the doorway, whilst I had explored, “I don’t have any of my things – don’t I need to go get them?”  
He shook his head at me, “No. Everything will be provided here.” He told me. “Of course, I can send someone to get any odd possessions you feel you need.”  
“But what about clothes?!” I exclaimed, “I don’t have anything but this!” I said, gesturing at my current outfit, which - now I looked at it – was a bit worse for wear. The knees of my trousers were scuffed and dirty from where I had knelt on the tarmac, my blouse twisted and missing a few buttons and quite grubby.  
“Have you actually looked in there?” Frost asked, nodding at the closet behind me. I frowned in confusion. Of course I had. I went back into the closet which had a huge full length mirror at one end, a long pouf-like seat in the centre of the room and numerous wardrobes and drawers lining the walls either side. This times however, instead of just standing in awe, I opened one of the many ornate doors to the wardrobes. Inside was a large array of blouses and shirts in varying colours and styles. I stared at it for a few moments before I closed the door once again. Now I moved across choosing instead to open one of the drawers which I soon found out to be full of jeans.  
I had a whole new wardrobe.  
I practically ran around the whole room opening each drawer and closet door, finding all manners of clothing ranging from lingerie to dresses and jumpers to shoes and even some things I wasn’t sure what you were supposed to do with.  
It was only when I reached the left side of the closet that something hit me. I was seeing suits, shirts, ties and men’s shoes. And - in particular - a very familiar looking coat.  
This was the Joker’s wardrobe as well.  
I froze where I was before I quickly closed the door to the wardrobe. “Frost?” I called, my voice shaking slightly with the sudden realisation.  
“Yes?” He asked and I spun around in surprise at how close his voice was, realising he was now stood in the doorway.  
“Who’s room is this?” I asked.  
“Yours.” He replied simply.  
“Who else’s?”  
He hesitated, but clearly knew there was no use trying to hide it. “The Boss’s.” He admitted.  
I didn’t say anything, letting it sink in. I was expected to not only live in his house, but also share his room?! Then it got worse. There was only one bed. I had to share a bed with him?!  
I shook my head, “You’re kidding, right?” I practically begged. “There’s hundreds of rooms in this house! Why can’t I stay in one of those?!” I demanded  
Frost shook his head, not looking over joyed at the situation either - or maybe it was the fact he now had to deal with a distraught woman. “They haven’t been used in years and haven’t been made up.” He explained, “We didn’t know anything about this until we were given the orders earlier this evening.”  
“But he never stays here, right?!” I demanded, “That’s what you said before!” I knew I was clutching at straws now - anything to make this situation better.  
Frost shrugged in response, “I don’t know. He never used to.” He said, though he didn’t sound convinced.  
It was enough for me now – it provided a small bit of comfort.  
“I imagine you’re tired,” Said Frost brusquely, “so I’ll leave you to it.” And with that he had turned and left me alone in the huge room, clearly not wanting to handle me and my questions anymore. I didn’t blame him – it had been a long night and, now he mentioned it, I could feel the tiredness starting to drag me down.  
I turned back to my side of the room of the closet, returning once more to opening the drawers - this time searching for the one with pyjamas in them.  
When I eventually found the correct one I pulled out a few pieces of clothing, holding them up to examine them in the light. “You’ve got to be kidding.” I breathed. They were the smallest, skimpiest thing I’d ever seen. “This is what they think constitutes pyjamas?” I asked myself, screwing it into a ball and dumping it on the floor. I dug deeper into the drawer but could find nothing but silky or satin pieces - none of which would even reach half-way down my thigh.  
I sighed, giving up on finding anything more practical in the drawer. As much as I hoped the Joker wouldn’t come back here I wasn’t fooling myself there wasn’t a chance he could. I was also well aware that there was likely to be henchmen wandering the place - and I doubted Frost would give me the key to my door to lock myself in. I didn’t trust any of the other men as far as I could throw them - they were thugs after all. The last thing I wanted to do was to wear something so revealing – it made me feel even more vulnerable than I already was.  
And so, I returned to the other drawers, rummaging through the rest of my side in search for anything comfy and loose that might serve as makeshift pyjamas.  
Nothing.  
All the trousers were tightly fitted, the tops and dresses all skin tight. I groaned at the cabinets, getting increasingly tired and fed up and wondering what to do now. I wasn’t going to sleep in my underwear – that definitely came under ‘too revealing’.  
Then I remembered. The Joker’s side.   
I moved over to his drawers, pulling them open quickly, trying to find what I was looking for but paranoid someone might walk into the room and catch me rummaging through the Boss’s stuff – or maybe even the Joker himself. “Come on, come on.” I muttered under my breath as I searched.  
“Bingo!” I muttered under my breath pulling out and holding up my find. The trousers unfolded to reveal the Joker’s blue sweatpants with ARKHAM printed down the left leg.  
I held them up to my body. Large and baggy. Perfect.  
I slung them over one arm and continued my perusal through his cupboards, finding a rack of shirt and picking the softest one. I hurriedly changed into my improvised pyjamas, throwing my old clothes into a pile in the corner of the room. I head to the bathroom - not surprised when there was no lock on the door - and washed some of the grime off my face and freshening myself up a bit with what was available.   
Finally, I returned to the room and stared at the large bed.   
It was so inviting.  
But even as I stood there, dreaming of the comfy pillow only a few metres away from me, I still couldn’t get over the fact that the Joker could wander in at any moment - and I certainly didn’t want to end up sharing a bed with him!  
But what else could I do? I thought as I stood in the middle of the large room staring at the bed.  
Frost had said there was other rooms - they just hadn’t been made up – but I wasn’t in a position to quibble over whether something had a sheet on it or not. Just a sofa would do me right now.  
So, I opened the bedroom door quietly, peering out onto the landing to see if anyone was around. The immediate area appeared empty so I stepped out, quietly shutting the door behind me, and I made my way along the corridor once more, waiting a while before I started trying doors.  
Frost was right - it was like a large portion of the house just wasn’t used anymore. Some rooms were locked and those that did open were completely empty of all furniture. It took quite a few trys before I managed to find an open room with a bed and mattress.  
I snuck in, closing the door silently behind me and fumbling for a light switch in the dark. When I finally found it, the small chandelier-like light bathed the room in a soft gold glow and illuminated the cobwebs caught amongst its brackets.  
The room definitely hadn’t been used in a while, some of the furniture covered in white sheets, those exposed were coated in a thick layer of dust. There was no en-suite or a walk-in closet in this room, but the bed looked just as functional and still as inviting even without any bed sheets.  
Before I succumbed to the bed however, I took one last precaution towards the inhabitants of the house and used my remaining strength to push the nearest piece of furniture - an old (luckily empty) chest of drawers - in front of the door. Hopefully I wouldn’t get any unwanted visitors overnight now.  
I turned off the main light and stumbled my way to the bed, collapsing onto the bare mattress and momentarily wishing I’d thought to bring a blanket or something from the other room. Instead, I just pulled the Joker’s shirt tighter around my body, snuggling into the fabric and the soft bed - soon fast asleep.


	43. Chapter 43

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys, sorry it’s been a while since I’ve managed to get a part out!
> 
> This one is quite a bit shorter than usual, but I have started the next part - I just though this bit would be better on its own!
> 
> I’ll apologise now - this piece is probably REALLY bad because I’ve just felt very uninspired recently and I feel like I’ve lost my idea of the Joker at the moment (especially Jaredleto joker) - I think I might need to have a movie binge night to get back into character!
> 
> So the warning for this part is EXTREME FLUFF. I’m not kidding - this probably isn’t everyone’s cup of tea and I don’t know why I made it so fluffy (maybe I just need a hug). I don’t even know why I wrote this part. In my head it was better.
> 
> So if you want to skip this part I understand - I’ll try to get back on track for the next part!
> 
> Enjoy anyway!
> 
> Thank you again for reading and all your support! Feel free to send request etc. to me - I don’t mind which fandom - I need to branch out a bit! :D

“Where is she?!” The Joker demanded, advancing on the three men in front of him.  
“Sir?” Asked one of them.  
“The girl!” The Joker snarled furiously, launching at the henchman with his metal teeth bared, grabbing his shirt collar and shoving the barrel of his gun into the man’s throat.   
It was 5am and he’d finally returned from his ‘little discussion’ with Jackson out at the docks about an overdue shipment. It had ended with 7 men dead and Jackson himself sporting a new set of scars as a little debt reminder.  
But now the Joker needed sleep. He hadn’t slept for over 5 days and it was beginning to take its toll on him – not on his mental clarity, which remained its usual sharp-witted tangle of mess and noise – but physically he was exhausted, even now his legs ached and protested under his weight.  
When he had entered the large house, he’d found all his men wary – more than usual – around him and excusing themselves from any room he entered. He didn’t bother to waste his energy on them now – they’d still be in there in the morning when he felt more refreshed – and he get his attention solely on his path to the bed at the top of the house.  
When he had arrived at the door he had opened it quietly, knowing there was a chance the girl [Y/N] would be asleep and - though the idea of seeing that little scowl on her face once again sounded appealing - he wasn’t in the mood to really mess with her right now - he had plenty of time to do that later after all. The thought of this had made his lips twitch into his signature grin.  
As he had opened the door, the dim light of the corridor had faintly lit the blackness, throwing shadows across the room, and providing just enough light to make out the outlines of objects. He had immediately headed to the bed but stopped dead when he found it empty. Pristine. As though no one had even touched it.  
Where was the girl?  
He searched the room, the only trace of [Y/N] being a pile of her clothes in his wardrobe.  
How the men in front of him were blathering excuses, though the one beneath his grip remained silent and still, knowing his best option now was to not say anything.  
The Joker wasn’t listening to their droning voices – he had too many of his own in his head to pay attention to theirs. He didn’t care what they had to say unless it provided him with new, useful information.   
And it didn’t.  
A gunshot went off and the Joker could feel the man under his hand tense and flinch at the sound. But it wasn’t him that dropped to the floor. It was the man to his left. A clean bullet hole to the head.  
The Joker looked past the man he held to the body now on the floor. He hadn’t planned to do that. The voices suggest some interesting things sometimes. He regarded the body in boredom – this wasn’t one of those times.  
Silence filled the room, the remaining two henchmen too scared to say another word and too terrified to move a muscle in case the boss instinctively shot at them, the man held recoiling from the gun now on his shoulder.  
“Frost.” The Joker growled - the tall, suited man already on route to the Joker’s side at the sound of the gunshot.   
“We’re combing through the CCTV.” Frost informed him quickly, unfazed by the new stain gracing spreading on the floor.  
“Search everywhere. Find her.” The Joker ordered through clenched teeth before he released the henchman in his grip and strode off past Frost into the dark hallway. “And clean that up.” He called back to the three remaining men.  
There was a cold insane cackle from the clown before he disappeared into the shadows.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
As much as sleep pulled at the Joker’s mind and body, he remained awake. He sat on the edge of the large queen-sized bed, his shirt handing completely open, his gun holsters hanging loosely from his shoulders and his hair messy from his own hands. He stared blindly into the dark at where the patterned wallpaper would be. But his mind was making’s its own pattern, its own maze to continue to get lost in.  
The knock at the door was like a cannon through his mind’s chatter and the gun was instinctively pointed at the door as it opened to reveal Frost, his hands up in the air by his chest in a surrendering gesture – knowing his boss’s reflexes.  
“Where is she?” The Joker growled lowly, forgetting about the loaded gun pointed at his head henchman.  
Frost however, sensed the danger was over - even with the weapon still pointed directly at him - and lowered his hands. “The 5th room.” He stated, knowing J didn’t want any more information than that.   
The Joker was up and pushing past him before he’d finished.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
The Joker strode briskly down the dark corridors, his anger fuelling his weary muscles. He arrived at the one of the many identical doors that filled this side of the house and snarled at the men that surrounded the doorway. Most fled, but a few stayed behind for further orders, simply shrinking against the wall opposite.  
The Joker stepped through the doorway, immediately noting a large chest of drawers pushed halfway into the room. Had she tried to block up the door? Clever, doll. He scowled, striding into the room, ready to wring her neck for her insolence.  
But then he saw her lying on the bed.  
She was curled onto her right side, some of her hair falling onto her face, the rest of it fanning out behind her. The rectangle of light from the hallway fell across her body and illuminated her face. It was the first time he had seen it looked soft. Whenever she saw him she was always frowning, worried or scowling. But now her face was smooth, no angry lines creasing her face. He had never seen her so peaceful. So relaxed. And she was in his clothes he realised, as his eyes travelled down her body.   
It should anger him. It should make the voice flare to a deafening pitch until he did something reckless and murderous. But it didn’t.   
If he didn’t know better it looked like they’d just slept together.  
He liked her in them. It suited her. Looking like his.  
Movement behind the Joker caused him to spin around, “Out.” He snapped harshly at Frost now in the doorway. Frost hesitated, worried what the Joker might do to the poor girl asleep on the bed, but the look in the Joker’s eyes was something you didn’t challenge and Frost soon backed down, retreating with the rest of his men.  
The Joker moved back to the doorway and closed the door silently behind the men, plunging the room into darkness. It didn’t take long for his eyes to adjust to the new blackness and he turned back to Y/N.  
Now was his chance.  
Her vulnerable throat lay exposed to him ready for the strong grip of his hands to crush it or for the glint of his blade that he could feel heavy in his pocket.  
His hand slipped to the knife, pulling it out and flipping it open as his mind urged him on. He perched on the edge of the bed and continued to watch her, her chest rising and falling with each deep breath.  
It annoyed the him. Annoyed the voices.  
He wanted to snuff it out. Stop the movement.  
But his eyes continued to follow the rise and fall and he suddenly realised how quiet the room was. The insistent white noise was gone. Like following the rhythm had calmed his mind.  
In the new silence, only the harsh breath through his lips could be heard, her own breath sweet and quiet. She looked soft delicate.  
The Joker was lost in his mind’s new silence, only the voices now vying for his attention now. He brought the blade to her skin, running it along the outline of her exposed arm where the she had rolled up his shirt’s sleeve. He didn’t withdraw the blade as she shivered her sleep from the contact of the cold metal, leaving it lying against her skin until she lay still again.  
When she relaxed once more he continued to trail the tip of the knife up her arm, watching it catch on the rucked-up fabric of the shirt sleeves, until he reached her throat, relishing the feel of her skin under the blade.  
He could put pressure on it now if he wanted to. End it.  
But instead he trailed the blade along her skin, admiring the goose bumps that rose on her skin under his touch.  
He hadn’t realised how close he’d leant in towards her until he felt her breath brush against his cheek. It caught him off guard and he couldn’t help flinching slightly causing him to momentarily lose control of his hand and nick her skin with the point of the blade.  
He withdrew the knife but couldn’t see the damage in the dark. He dismissed it. He’d barely touched you after all.  
[Y/N]’s breath continued to float across his cheek and now he expected it was almost a nice feeling. Like it blew away another voice from his mind. One in a whole crowd might not feel like much, but he could tell it was gone and it felt good to gain another small chunk of silence in his usually chaotic mind.  
The Joker pulled back, repositioning himself on the bare mattress so that he lay alongside her on the other side of the bed - still careful not to touch her - his sleep deprived body sighing in relief at the feeling of rest. He closed his eyes - hardly at peace - but better than he had been for a long time.  
Peace only found him when [Y/N] shifted in her sleep, turning so she faced him and curling into his side, an arm draped across his chest, and a small dreaming smile on her lips.


	44. Chapter 44

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys, back for the next part!
> 
> It’s quite a long one, but nothing much exciting really happens, but you’ll be glad to know that the part after this is nearly finished so it shouldn’t take too long to get the next bit out!
> 
> Anyway, Enjoy! :)
> 
> (Thank you so much for all the encouraging kudos and messages you guys send me! I literally live off all of your support! xx)

When I work up I briefly noted how bright the room was before I then closed my eyes again, snuggling back into the bed, drawing the covers tighter around my chilled shoulders, intent on trying to cling to the remains of my slumber and maybe fall back to the peace that was my sleep.  
But I couldn’t stop the brightness penetrating through my thin eyelids and I could feel I had lost that small hope of sleep and I drifted back to reality once again. I still refused to open my eye though - enjoying just lying in bed – and I began my usual ritual of running through the list of today’s tasks I needed to get done.  
That was when my memory flooded back to me.  
I felt the panic surge through me, my heart pounding. Shit.  
What was going on?!  
I shouldn’t have a duvet. I shouldn’t a pillow.  
I should be in a bare room filled with old dusty furniture and I should be lying on a bare mattress.  
I opened my eyes now - cautiously in case I wasn’t the only person in the room – to see that I was lying on my right side facing a wall of familiar dark green wallpaper with gold swirling patterns. I glanced down the length of the bed and - sure enough - there was the large glass doors that led onto the balcony.  
I was back in the Joker’s room again.  
I cautiously turned over, searching for anyone else in the room with me. No one. I was alone. But this was definitely the Joker’s room.  
Maybe one of the henchmen had moved me - maybe it was Frost. If I could find him quickly I could - not only talk to him about personal boundaries - but also convince him not to tell the Joker I had disobeyed him. I didn’t really want him to know if I could help it. Maybe then I could talk to him civilly about new sleeping arrangements if I ever saw him within the next week.  
Whatever I was going to do, I wasn’t going to get anything done lying here. I shoved myself upright and began to shuffle myself to the side of the bed, just swinging my legs over the side when the bathroom door swung inwards, my head shooting up at the movement, the rest of me freezing on the bed.  
The Joker stood in the doorway of the bathroom, hair wet and slicked back with a few strands falling out of place across his face. He wore nothing but a towel on his hips, my eyes drawn to the many inked illustrations on view which seemed to move with each flex of his muscles.  
“Afternoon, doll.” He greeted at my figure, frozen in the act. I barely registered that it was the afternoon and I must have slept at least half of the day away, too stunned by his sudden appearance to do much more than stare at him in shock. “Enjoying yourself, doll?” He asked with a lazy grin, breaking my day dream and I snapped my eyes up to him, feeling the blush heating my cheeks.  
“Yes I am.” I respond defiantly, shocked at the words out of my mouth. The Joker laughed and I wasn’t sure if it was because of what I said, or the look of pure surprise on my face that I had said them.  
“I trust you slept well, doll?” He asked pleasantly, with a sickly sweet smile, sounding genuinely intrigued.  
I frowned at him quizzically – that was very out of character for him. “Uh, fine thanks.” I answered - did he not know that I had left the room? Had no one told him? A large grin spread across his face at my answer – as though he shared an inside joke – so he did know? I frowned in confusion at him.  
“My night was fine too doll, thanks for asking.” He teased sarcastically stepping into the room – He watched me for a moment as though waiting to catch something in my eyes, but I tried to hide any guilt that might be there and I thought I had got away with it, but then his eyes turned steely, “Imagine my surprise though, doll.” He started, stepping further into the room and waving an arm about theatrically, “when I return to the house last night to find my honoured guest had scorned all the luxuries I had provided!” He cried dramatically, “Choosing instead to stay in an old dusty room with a worn-out mattress and no bed sheets - not even a pillow!” He cried in false distress, one hand to his heart, now stood before me at the foot of the bed.   
“You had arranged for me to sleep in your own bed!” I defended strongly, not amused by his little theatre production, “I didn’t think that was appropriate.”  
“Tell me then doll,” He said, leaning in toward me, causing me to recoil from his close proximity, his large Cheshire grin too close for my comfort, “why did you think it ‘inappropriate’ to sleep in my bed, and yet you’ll happily wear my clothes?” He asked pleasantly.  
Shit. I looked down at my lap – sure enough I was still in his shirt and tracksuit bottoms. I could feel the red in my cheeks increase. Maybe I had crossed a line there – some people were precious about this kind of thing. But, thanks to my new confidence, I wasn’t backing down that easily, “Maybe if you’re going to insist on providing people with clothes you ought to include a more modest section for those whose careers don’t rely on a pole stuck in the floor!” I retaliated sharply.  
I thought I’d gone too far then, and I dropped the scowl on my face quickly, panicking that his famous temper would flare at me. He paused a moment, his face serious and considering, then he broke into laughter, pulling himself upright again and chuckling to himself as he disappeared into the walk-in closet to this right.  
I scowled at his muscular back as he left me sat on the bed, confused by his almost amiable behaviour and unsure what to do now. Was this how he was going to get me to smile? Just be a bit nicer to me? Well it wasn’t going to work, I thought defiantly, scowling to myself.  
The door to the closet remained open, the Joker hidden behind it, but I could hear the sound of drawers opening and sliding shut. I didn't know what to do. I was still sat, half under the covers in the joker’s bedroom – in his clothes - whilst the man himself was now getting dressed in the room opposite.   
Out of context this situation looked a lot different to the one it was.   
And now the idea of the Joker probably naked just behind that door was stuck in my mind. My thoughts wandered for a moment as to what that looked like, but I quickly shook my head away from that path – that was not a thought trail I should be going down.  
I looked around the room desperately – what could I do? I felt extremely awkward just sat on the bed – unsure where to go or what was expected of me and the Joker only a few metres away. My eyes fell on the bathroom door. There was no lock on it – I remembered that – but I could still at least hide in there for a bit – I felt too vulnerable here.  
I slid out of bed silently and crept quickly, but silently to the bathroom door, trying not to catch the Joker’s attention if I could help it and practically jumping over the threshold into the bathroom, closing door sharply behind me.  
I leant against the wood for a moment, my heart racing. I was safe – well safer anyway.  
\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
I had no way of telling how long I hid in that bathroom.  
I tried to just act normal to start with, brushing my teeth, washing my face, just taking my time with each and keeping half an ear out for the sound of the bedroom door to tell me the Joker had left.  
That was the longest time I had ever spent brushing my teeth.  
I thought I had heard the door go, but I was worried my ears were lying to me when I thought I heard another sound in the room. Eventually I couldn’t stand it any longer and left the bathroom, sneaking silently around the room, peering into any space I thought the Joker could hide in until I was convinced the room was empty.  
I laughed shakily to myself at the extremes I was going through as I got dressed – managing to find a few pieces of clothing that covered at least some of skin and weren’t see-through or torn in strategic areas.  
Now I stood in the middle of the room not sure what to do now. I was starving, but where was the kitchen? And was I just allowed to go there and help myself to what I wanted? And where was the Joker?  
I remained there for a few moments unsure how to proceed till I gained the courage to leave the room. I wandered the house blindly for a time, trying to retrace the steps I had taken with Frost the day before, until I eventually reached the top of the grand staircase where a couple of armed henchmen stood guard outside a door.  
I asked for directions from them and then begrudgingly instructed me to the kitchen which I followed and, after still managing to make a few wrong turns, I finally found my way to it.  
Similar to the rest of the house, this room too, was huge. It had clearly been originally designed to be a historic-looking kitchen, once having the large fireplace, enough room for a huge farmhouse table in the middle and any other contraptions you wanted. But now it was revamped, a huge island with bar stools taking up the middle of the room and all the counters and technology having a very modern and metal look to them.  
I wandered around the large room, opening drawers out of sheer curiosity and stumbling upon gadgets I didn’t even know existed. It was an oddly stocked kitchen for a house that was supposedly never used.  
I hadn’t been in there long when Frost had found me, materialising in the doorway and making me jump. Though he seemed just as surprised to see me as I, him. He looked me up and down, as if looking for something.  
“Frost?” I asked, when I’d managed to get my heart into my chest, “What’s up?” I asked, confused by his expression.  
He pulled himself upright, resuming his professional stance – I guess he was working after all, “Just surprised to see you still standing.” He told me.  
I looked at him confused, “Why wouldn’t I be…” I began, then it hit me, "Frost, what happened last night?”  
He furrowed his brow, confused I didn’t know. “I wanted to ask you the same thing.” He said cryptically.  
I frowned back at him, “You don’t know?”  
“I know you didn’t stay in the room assigned to you.” He admitted, “Boss was pretty mad when he found out.”  
“So he does know?” I asked grimacing, “Were you the one that moved me?”  
Frost looked at me confused, “Moved you? No. Boss sent us all away once we tracked you down. He closed the door after that but I’d seen that look before on his face and I didn’t think you would make it out alive, let alone unharmed.” He admitted, his mind somewhere else.  
Wonderful. I had been asleep in the same room as a pissed off psychotic murderer.  
“So how did I get back in the Joker’s room?” I asked, more to myself than to Frost. But I already knew the answer.  
Frost shrugged anyway, “He must have carried you back.”  
I couldn’t believe it. I stared wide eyed at the kitchen island in front of me. The Joker had carried me, sleeping, in his arms. I could feel my face burning red. Did I snore? Had I had bad breath? Was I heavy? Oh my God this was mortifying.  
I knew I should be annoyed at him – pretty pissed actually – that he had forced me basically to sleep in the same bed as him. But right now, all I could feel was an intense burning embarrassment. I was no longer worried that I had been that close to being murdered, I was too busy worrying if I’d made a fool of myself whilst unconscious.  
And – wait. He’d been in the same room as me this morning. Did we sleep together? I could feel my eyes widened as the events of last night became clearer. Oh no.  
“Ergh!” I groaned in frustration and humiliation, placing my hand forehead in disgrace.  
Frost watched me uncomfortably, clearly not sure what to do, “Look,” He said, trying to break through my anguish, “I need to get back to work – I only came down because George said he’d seen you wandering around and asking for directions.” He told me. “Help yourself to anything around the place, no room is off limits but I would stay away from the room directly opposite the stairs – that’s the Boss’s office.” I nodded at him as I took the information in, remembering the door with the men outside, wondering if one of them was ‘George’.  
Frost gave me a small smile and quick apology before making to stride off into the house. “Oh,” he recalled suddenly stopping in the doorway, “Boss would like you to join him this evening for a drive.” He informed me.  
“Tell him no thanks.” I muttered, “Not sure I have the energy in me to deal with him tonight.” Frost frowned at me, clearly not happy with my response, but gave me a quick nod anyway before continuing back into the depths of the house.  
I contemplated the consequences of my decision as I helped myself to some food. Would the Joker be mad I had turned him down? Of course, he would. Would he do anything about it was more what I should be concerned about.  
I shuffled around the cupboards as I thought, once again surprised to find that the kitchen was stock to the brim with fresh produce and I had to wonder if it was because of me, or if they always had to keep it stocked in case the Joker made a sudden decision to spend some time here.  
The whole time I was in the kitchen I saw no one else – so much so I did consider spending the whole day in the kitchen - but I decided I couldn’t spend a whole week in this huge house just hauled up in this one room, so, after I was done eating, I set out to explore the rest of the maze-like mansion.  
There were so many rooms.  
There were at least 3 rooms that appeared to be lounges with different arrays of entertainment kits, a large fancy dining room that looked like it was never used, a few rooms that seemed dedicated to drinking alone, the large garage I had arrived via last night and – I noted for future reference – a large library stacked from floor to ceiling with shelves of dusty books.  
I was glad to see that none of these rooms seemed to have undergone the redecorating that the hall had, no green paint or bullet holes in sight.  
I continued around the ground floor of the house, finding many rooms empty or so dusty that I couldn’t stop sneezing upon entering. I paused when I came across a large conservatory-like room at what must have been the back of the house.  
It was humid in here, the rain pattering lightly on the glass roof above. Through the wall of windows in front of me lay a large green lawn with neatly trimmed hedges around the borders, the boundaries stretching out of sight over a hill and the bare outlines of skyscrapers just visible in the distance against the grey sky.  
“You know, doll, it’s rude to turn down your host when they offer you a night out?” Came a voice from behind that sent shivers down my back. The voice sounded soft, but dangerous and I turned slowly to meet the Joker standing in the double door entrance to the room.   
“Got plans already, huh?” he mocked, “Shame.” He pouted at me cruelly, “Maybe tomorrow night.”  
“No thank you.” I managed out, though my voice was croaky and faltered slightly. “I don’t particularly want to do anything with you.” I said bravely.  
“No?” He questioned, feigning surprise, “Come now doll,” he teased, “if you keep refusing to even let me try to make you smile, that’s cheating.” He purred dangerously, holding my gaze and his eyes seemed to become stormier, his mouth breathing louder and harsher. I swallowed thickly, regretting my previous words.   
“Boss?”  
The Joker snarled and span to face the henchman that had appeared next to him, brandishing a piece of paper at arms length as though it was a white flag. The Joker snatched it from him, his eyes darting over the paper as he read it. His jaw clenched and he crumpled the paper in his fist, grumbling something under his breath that sound like ‘If you want something done you gotta do it yourself.’ He gaze shot back up to mine swiftly “Later then, Doll.” He said before departing, the henchman following quickly on behind.  
I didn’t linger in that room, just in case the Joker decided to pay me another visit and finish whatever he wanted to do a moment ago. Instead, I continued to wander the house until I finally found my way back to the familiar entrance way, the harsh graffiti and knife art no longer really bothering me anymore. I headed immediately for one door in particular, pushing it open, surprised to see the room hadn’t changed in the slightest.  
The large, plump arm chairs still sat next to the unlit fireplace, the dark wood bookshelves still pushed up against the back wall, and the decanter with its matching crystal glasses still sat on the small coffee table between the chairs. And, of course - still sat nestled under the large window that looked out over the front lawn - was the beautiful piano.  
I drifted into the room, able to take my time now to examine every inch of the room without the fear from the last time. It was a beautiful room, practically tiny compared to the rest of the house, but still very large compared to anything I had ever lived in.  
I sat myself down in one of the cushiony armchairs, admiring the detailed patterns that adorned the fireplace and surveying the rest of the room. Eventually though, I could no longer resist it anymore and stood up, heading straight for the piano. I hesitated, admiring the instrument from afar before I sat gently on the old, faded stool stroking the key cover and lifting it up, a strong sense of déjà vu overcoming me.  
The keys, yellow with age, lay out perfectly just begging to be used and I stroked them with longingly.  
Frost had said help myself to anything I wanted - there was no one around to disturb here anyway.  
So I pressed a key. The noise sounded ridiculously loud to my ears that were so used to the echoing silence of the large house. I waited a few beats, to see if anyone responded to the noise, but when nothing happened I took that as enough reassurance to push another key. I waited again.  
I slowly grew in confidence with each passing moment of no response or movement from the rest of the house, soon playing more and more keys until the notes no longer sounded painfully loud to me and I eventually began to play a silly little tune I had been taught when I learnt to play.  
My fingers danced over the keys fluidly until I made the tune more complex and intricate, soon forming the music of a song I knew. It didn’t take long before I got caught up in the melody, beginning to hum the song and then sing the words quietly at first and then gaining in volume, though never louder than normal talking level.  
I continued to press away at the keys, not taking a break between one song and the next, just playing continuously.  
That was until I heard a floorboard creek outside the door. I jumped, my hands slipping on the keys and making a painfully out-of-tune noise. I instantly spun around to the source of the noise, only to find the Joker stood framed in the doorway.   
Déjà vu indeed.  
He surveyed me for a moment in silence and I wondered if he would continue with what he had wanted to say earlier or if he was going to berate me for making too much noise or daring to be in this room when there was a strict rule, that I was unaware of that, prohibited it.  
Or maybe – given he was the Joker and wholly unpredictable – he might just crack a joke at my expense and leave.   
However, he did none of these things. He just stood there in silence, the dark shadow around his eyes showing that - though he slept last night - it wasn’t nearly enough.  
He lingered only a few moments longer and then he was gone as suddenly as he had come.  
I watched the empty doorway for a few moments but he didn’t return. I got up and closed the door quietly - not wanting anymore unexpected audiences - and returned to my music, my heart was still erratic from surprise, and half an ear open for any more footsteps on the floor outside the door.

 

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was only later that day, as I climbed the stairs to explore the top of the house, that I heard a familiar sound.

Was that my voice.  
It was soft and quiet but I could definitely hear it. I back tracked down the hallway till I reached the top of the stairs again. There were no men outside the door this time and I could press up close to the wood.  
Sure enough, there it was - quiet but still audible - me and the piano from earlier playing out quietly in the Joker’s office.  
I didn’t know what to think about it, so I pushed it to the back of my mind and hurried down the corridor out of sight before I got caught again.


	45. Chapter 45

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys!  
> Next parts ready-ish!  
> It might take a little while longer to get the next part out as I'm not at home much this week, but I'll try my hardest to fit it in and get it written!
> 
> Hope you Enjoy!  
> As always, thank you for the support!

I didn’t see the Joker for the rest of the day. I spent the rest of the afternoon and evening hiding amongst the other rooms in the house, occasionally sneaking into the kitchen for snacks, but generally gravitating to the smaller front room with the piano. I ensured the door was closed and, once I had made a trip to the library – I had a small collection of books to amuse myself with.  
Eventually it reached the point that my eyes blurred too much from reading the small text and I gave up for the night, placing my books to the side for tomorrow when I would no doubt return and continue.  
I headed straight up the stairs, debating with myself what I should do. Did I return to the Joker’s room? Did I find a new room to sleep in tonight? Either as I considered that though, a new wave of exhaustion washed over me as I climbed the staircase and I doubted I would get away with and I was far too tired to want to put up much of a fight to whoever came to find me.  
So, I returned to the Joker’s room, my feet dragging along the carpeted corridor – except from outside the Joker’s office which I made sure to hurry past. I wasn’t sure why – maybe I was worried he’d catch me out there, or maybe I was worried I hear my voice again.  
I reached the bedroom door without incident and I stepped into the room, closing the dark heavy door behind me firmly. It was only as I turned to face the rest of the room again that I realised there was a chance I wasn’t alone in here. A quick scan of the room showed no one, but I still snuck quietly around the rest of the room, checking the smaller roads that led off. Only when I confirmed these to be clear, could I then allow myself to relax a little.  
I headed back to the walk-in closet, this time clocking the fact that the heap of clothes I had left earlier that day was missing. I dug back through the cupboards, searching for the Joker’s shirt and sweatpants – assuming someone had tidied up after me – but they had vanished completely from the room.  
“Fine,” I muttered under my breath, “I’ll just sleep in what I’m wearing.” I huffed in annoyance and left the closet, refusing to give into the frilly small pieces of fabric that still sat in my side of the wardrobe.   
Once using the bathroom and ready to turn in, I headed to the large 4 poster bed. I stood at the side of it, eyeing up the large, heavy queen-sized duvet. The bed almost looked intimidating to me and it was weird to think I was going to willingly climb into the Joker’s bed – everything about my situation right now told me not to do it, but I felt I had no other option right now – the Joker had made that clear to me and Frost had confirmed it when he seemed to think I had narrowly missed a far worse consequence last time.   
Besides, the pillows did look comfy.  
I pulled back the duvet partially - ready to climb into the tall bed – when I discovered a small pile of clothes in front of me on top of the sheet. I frown in confusion, reaching for the piece of clothing on the top, unfolding it and holding it up in front of me. My heart jumped a bit when I realised it was the ARKHAM sweatpants I had borrowed last night, and, yes, now I looked down at the neatly folding shirt left on the bed – that was the same shirt I had worn last night.  
My eyes widen in surprise and a I felt a small smile rise on my face. I quickly caught it, stamping it down. Shit. At least the Joker wasn’t here to see it – who knew that him just letting me wear the clothes I’d stolen would make me that happy.  
Stupid. I cursed before grabbing the clothes and changing into them – relishing in the bagginess compared to the skinny jeans and tight-fitting T-shirt I had been wearing.  
I climbed into the bed, relaxing onto the cushiony pillow and thick spongy mattress. I revelled the luxurious softness around me as I lay there, staring up at the dark canopy above. My mind wide awake.

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
The Joker sat at his desk reading and rereading the same blue print, his mind unable to concentrate - the voices unusually loud in his head.  
He grabbed at his head, curling his fingers into claws into his hair, growling angrily. “Shut up!” He snarled, pulling at the green strands, not caring or noticing the pain in his scalp. The voices didn’t listen though, if anything they increased through his frustration.  
He clenched him jaw, his teeth protesting under the force. They had seemed louder all day since the silence of last night. It made it impossible to think straight – not that he usually did - but to plan a heist needed some clear thoughts. He blamed [Y/N]. She had taken away his blissful ignorance. She had quietened them for a small moment, just long enough to show him what it could be like and now they were back – louder than ever. It was torturous.  
Speaking of [Y/N].  
Her voice was echoing around his large office along with the keys of the old piano, as he replayed the CCTV camera footage from the front room earlier this afternoon. The Joker pressed a button on the keypad on his right and one of the many screens in front of him flickered, the music cutting out and now there was a different camera footage of a different room of the house, the icon blinking in the upper right-hand corner showing it was live.  
It was his room.   
He had heard her pass his office as she had headed up the stairs and along the corridor – her light footsteps completely different to the thudding of the henchman that he usually heard outside his door. He watched as she entered into the room from the bottom of the screen, moving slowly around the room and obviously suspicious, before she disappeared back into the walk-in closet. He smirked to himself – he liked how he made her so uncomfortable and nervy.  
He waited for her to return - his eyes not leaving the black and white screen – and a few moments later she did. He wasn’t surprised to see that she hadn’t got changed – the girl was stubborn if nothing else. He watched her walk across the room, never breaking his gaze from the moving image.  
She paused at the bed, hesitating before pulling back the cover and then pausing again. The distance of the camera meant he couldn’t see clearly what the black smudge on the bed was, but the Joker knew. Per his orders, the staff of the house had tidied up the clothes left in the closet and had laid out [Y/N]’s makeshift ‘pyjamas’ on the bed for the evening.  
The Joker couldn’t be sure, but he thought the pixels of [Y/N]’s face had formed a brief smile.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
I tried to sleep for hours.  
I finally managed to drift off to sleep for a few moments, before I awoke once more. I looked at the time and groaned in annoyance when I found I had been asleep for no more than 20 minutes. I turned over for the billionth time, groaning again into the pillow.   
I wished this night was over. I was sick of lying in this bed and not getting any sleep when I felt so exhausted, yet my mind would not silence long enough for me to sleep.  
After a while of lying face down in the pillow I found my breathing becoming restricted so I turned my head, lying so I stared wake awake at the empty pillow across from me.   
Where was the Joker? – Not that I wanted him here – But it must be at least 2am by now – was he sleeping somewhere else? Or was he just not going to sleep at all?  
I remembered the tired look in his eyes that I had noticed earlier, the dark shadows that framed his cheeks. That man needed some sleep – maybe then he’d had fewer mood swings all the time.  
Before I knew what I was doing, I was climbing out of bed and making my way to the bedroom door, swinging it open and striding out into the hallway. Without much of a falter, I took the right direction down the dark corridors and began to head to the staircase.  
Now would be a good time for common sense to break through and for me to actually stop and think what I was doing.  
But I didn’t.  
I just continued on my path, pushing any thoughts, apart from the direction I was heading in, out of my mind.  
That was, until I bumped into a solid post.  
“Ah!” I cried as I stumbled backwards. I probably would have overbalanced and fallen over my own feet as well if it wasn’t for the fact that a strong hand reach out and grabbed one of my arms. I was yanked back upright – none too softly – and I toppled forward instead, colliding once more with the hard post in front of me.   
I flung my arms out to save myself and ended up wrapping them around the pillar – only to find it wasn’t a pillar or a post.   
It was a man’s body.  
I abruptly pushed myself off the poor man I had just assaulted, mumbling a quick apology. Somewhere in the dark corridor a light was hit and a dim light came on over our heads – though even this was blinding to my eyes for a few moments. I squinted at the man in front of me and, even though my vision was still not quite clear, the green hair and pale skin could only belong to one person.  
I had just collided into the Joker.  
“Where do you think you’re going, doll?” He asked smoothly, but his voice held a warning in it and he hadn’t released my arm.  
“Um – uh – I - .” I stuttered, the surprise encounter making me lose my chain of thought.  
“Spit it out doll.” He pressed, irked by inability to speak coherently and he pulled my arm impatiently.  
“Well you see, Mr Joker, I –“ I began, my exhausted mind finding an explanation that didn’t sound ridiculous difficult and deciding being cringingly polite was the right way to go about this.  
“J.” He corrected.  
I frowned up at him, “What?” I asked crudely.  
“Call me J, doll.” He clarified, “None of that formalness.” He brushed away my previous remark.  
“Ok – well, ‘J’” I started again, “I couldn’t sleep and I –“  
“Thought you’d take a moonlit stroll, doll?” He asked snidely.  
“No, I –“  
“Thought you’d go sightseeing?” He interrupted again. “Secret admirer waiting for you?” He kept pressing, each question more sounding more scathing then the last.  
“No.” I snarled, “I thought I’d see if you were going to sleep at all tonight!” I cried out, angrily, annoyed at his sardonic attitude when I was just trying to be nice to my host. “But I can see you’re just going to snarky and rude – so goodnight!” I snapped and spun back the way I had come, snatching my arm free from his hand.  
There was pause for a beat as I headed off down the corridor, back the way I had come, before my upper arm was grabbed from behind, “Aww, but doll.” The Joker protested as he pulled me to a stop. I refused to turn around, so he stepped around me till I was forced to face him. I dropped my gaze, even though I couldn’t actually see his face very well now, having left the light behind us in the few strides I had taken. “My snarkiness is only redeeming quality.” He explained teasingly to the top of my head, until he gripped my chin, pulling it up, “Don’t make me get rid of that!” He cried dramatically, but I refused to be placated, keeping my frown in place.  
I wrenched my chin from his grip and went to push by him. But he caught me as I moved past, winding his arm around my waist and holding me in place whilst he stepped behind me and held me against his chest.  
“I’ll make you a deal, I’ll go to bed, if you go to bed, what da’ya say?” He breathed into my ear, his voice suddenly laced in a seductive tone. His warm breath in my ear and the promises in his voice made me weak and giddy, though I knew it was all wrong.  
“I’d say why does everything have to be a deal with you?” I asked shakily, trying to sound strong - though I was anything but that right now – and trying to inch my body away from his own, worried it would betray me.  
“Because then I know you’ll uphold your end of the bargain, doll.” He purred, running his free hand down the side of my body, keeping his face close to my ear and pulling me tighter against his chest as he felt my resistance.  
“Fine.” I said quickly – anything to get out of this situation right now – and pulling against him again. This time he let me go, staying in place whilst I stepped ahead, turning back to him. “I’m going to bed.” I told him firmly and hurried off down the corridor, practically fleeing and half hoping he wouldn’t follow me.   
Why couldn’t I have just stayed in bed? Now I didn’t know what was going to happen but I was pretty sure I had just convinced an insane murdering lunatic to come and sleep in bed next to me.  
I was messed up.  
I found the room quickly, closing the door behind me – as though, somehow, that would be a deterrent to him – and climbed into bed in the dark. I pulled the covers over me and curled into a tight ball - pretending to be asleep, or at least close to asleep – praying for the slimmest hope that the Joker might just leave me in peace then.  
I heard movement down the corridor outside the room and my heart raced. Then the door opened, the bottom scraping along the thick carpet, and then it closed with a frim thud. I screwed my eyes closed tightly but I couldn’t help my ears focusing on every little noise, the tread of footsteps on the carpet, the sound of the tap turning on in the bathroom.  
Finally, after many tortuous moments that seemed to take far too long, the bed sunk behind me and I felt a body lie next to mine. I tried to keep my breath even and slow like I was sleeping and I thought I was safe when nothing happened for a few moments.  
I jumped, however, when I felt something brush my back and then familiar arms snuck around me, pulling me back against the same hard chest as earlier.  
“Why so tense, doll?” J breathed into my hair, making a shiver shoot down my back. I could feel every muscle was wound ridiculously tight, unsure what was happening or would happen next. “Relax.” He breathed again next to my ear. I needed to get his hands off my body. This was wrong. This was why I hadn’t wanted to sleep in this room in the first place.  
But I didn’t do anything. It was like I was frozen in place, waiting for something to trigger me into action.  
“Speaking of deals…” He purred, referring back to our conversation a few moments ago, “I know a sure way to put a smile on your face…” He purred suggestively, pulling me closer and running his left hand down my body.  
I could feel myself trembling under his touch, “No.” I said firmly, trying to pull away as much as I could, but slightly afraid to as well - not sure what he would do at my refusal, this was a crazed murderer after all. His hand froze on my hip at my reaction and I was worried what he was about to do, but then he withdrew it slowly, as though not to spook me.  
“Doll?” He asked, but I didn’t move for a few moments, I couldn’t hear any anger or danger in his voice, but I was still afraid in case I set him off. “Doll?” He asked again, moving to grab me, but I shuffled away from him slightly before I then sat up, looking down at my lap. I took a breath and collected all the courage I had left.  
I turned to him with confidence I didn’t feel, a professional air about me as though we were in one of his meetings, not both in bed together. “How about we make another deal.” I proposed. He watched me in the darkness, “You accused me that declining your offers out was cheating, right?” I asked quickly before he could interrupt me, the darkness hiding his face which helped my confidence a bit. I thought I saw him nod, “Well,” I continued, “I won’t cheat by refusing to do things, if you don’t cheat by making sexual advances on me, deal?” I asked hurriedly and I wondered if he actually understood a word I had so, or if I had spoken too fast.  
He seemed to regard this in silence for a few moments and I was petrified he’d say no – I didn’t have any other ideas to get out of this situation I had made. “You drive a hard bargain, kitten.” He drawled, as though still thinking about his options, “Deal.” He finally declared, his voice not giving away any emotion.  
In the dark I felt him shift on the bed so he no longer faced me, I lay back down, staring up at the darkness once more.  
“Um – J.” I asked into the darkness.  
“What doll?” He asked, sounding a bit irked and a bit tired.  
I hesitated a moment, worried it was a stupid question and he’d just get angry – but I wanted to know, “Why are you still in your clothes?” I had felt the buckle of his belt on my back and his shirt on my skin when he held me.  
“I sleep in the nude.” He told me, “Didn’t think you’d appreciate that, kitten.”  
“Uh – no.” I stuttered in surprise. “T-thanks.” I could feel my cheeks burning and I was glad for the darkness and his back being turned. None the less I swear I heard him chuckle at me.


	46. Chapter 46

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys, next part is ready (thanks to a late night of writing last night). I’ll apologise now for any poor editing on my behalf - but I was determined to get it finished so I could post it this morning.
> 
> Its really long (over 5000 words) so I’ll also apologise for that, but I couldn’t see a great way to split it up so *shrug*
> 
> Also there’s bits in here I’m not sure why I included them (which is probably why its soo long haha) but I just felt like writing it!
> 
> Anyway, hope you enjoy!
> 
> For those interested I will work towards the next part of Strictly Business before I write the next Deadly Voice (otherwise I’ll keep putting it off) so if there is a little bit of a longer delay for the next part, that’s why.

We slept that way for the next few days. Come each morning the Joker had vanished and seemed to then spend the whole day out of the house from what I could gather - though come the night I would always hear him enter the room and get into bed next to me. He never said a word to me, but he was always there without fail.  
I, myself, spent my days in the little piano room or the library mainly - I even took up cooking as a new way to entertain myself. Though it was an easy existence in the house, it was quite boring and lonely – most of the henchman leaving with the Joker so only a few were scattered around the halls (and they generally refused to speak to me).  
Once, I had made an attempt to leave the house – there was no rule that said I was under house arrest after all – so I had waited until most of the men were out of the house, then snuck out the front door and wandered down the long street that wound down the hill to the rest of the city. I had never made it to the city centre - the distance too far for foot alone really - but I had found a small street that lead off the main road which had a newsagent’s, hairdressers and a small coffee shop and so I sat in the little café for a while, relishing the change of scene.  
That was until half an hour later, when two 4x4s with tinted windows came rumbling down the street and had pulled up outside the window I had been sat by. The little shop had then been invaded by a bunch of armed men who had demanded I return to the house.  
Apparently, it was a rule that I was under house arrest for the whole week. 

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was my 5th day in the house when I awoke to yet another empty pillow next to me. The light from the large glass doors poured onto the bed and I squinted as I tilted my head toward the light source. I let out a small groan as consciousness worked its way through my mind, dispelling the sleepy haze and pushing my dreams aside.   
Though I knew the Joker would be long gone, I did what I always did each morning, dragging myself up until I sat in bed, the covers hugged tightly to my body even though I still wore my improvised pyjamas of the Joker’s shirt and sweatpants – a suitable alternative still not found. I then searched the room for any sign of, but – as usual - the room was silent and unmoving, the bathroom door flung open wide and no light on in the closet.  
I relaxed slightly, happy that I was the only one in the room, and lay back down in the bed, yawning widely and then sighing contently as I relaxed back into the cushion behind me. I could honestly just lie here all day - why shouldn’t I? It wasn’t like I had anywhere else to go, or anything else to do.  
That thought made we wonder back to my job – one I was sure I didn’t have anymore – I didn’t know if the Joker had just accepted my resignation when I had agreed to stay here, or maybe he still expect me to go? Either way I wasn’t going to. That job felt tinted now what with everything going on between me and him, and with the weird memory of Bobby still lingering at that bar.  
I scrunched my eyes up at the thought of having to go back there and I rolled over so I now lay diagonally across the bed, my face pressed into the pillow that the Joker occupied each night. Immediately his scent hit me, the smell of him lingering on the bed sheet and filling my mind – the smell of cologne, gunpowder and sex.  
I was lost in it, sucking it through me with every breath. I was wrong – this - this was where I could stay all day.  
Then what I was doing hit me and I immediately swung myself away, back to my side of the bed, breathing quickly to try to dispel what was left of the scent in my nostrils. I was being weird. And creepy, but now I knew the smell, I could almost feel it working its way across the bed towards me which only coupled with the hint of him still on my makeshift pyjamas.  
I sat myself up again, deciding that being locked in this house was slowly driving me insane and I just needed to get out of bed and clear my head. I swung my legs over the side of the mattress, about to push myself to my feet when a folded piece of paper on the bedside table next to me caught my eye. It had a knife rammed through it and embedded into the wood beneath.  
I was certain that hadn’t been there last night and I felt uneasy to think someone had stood that close to me with a knife, ready to stab – if only into the dresser next to me.  
Not that was normal - in anyway. I told myself harshly. There was nothing normal about stabbing a knife through a table as a crude paper weight. It was important to me that I remembered this – otherwise I might start thinking other things were normal - that the Joker was almost normal - almost sane. And that was a dangerous rabbit hole to get sucked down.  
I stared at the knife a bit longer - and I would be lying if I said I didn’t check for sign of blood on the blade as I sat there. Eventually curiosity got the better of me and leant over, pulling at the knife. It stuck fast - having been rammed deeply into the wood - it must have took quite a bit of force, and I recalled again how close I must have been to the person wielding this weapon.  
After wiggling it around a bit, I managed to tease it out of the table and I placed it on the bed cover to the side of me, my attention now on the paper which I picked up and unfolded, reading the brief, scrawled message written in purple ink.  
Meet me at the club tonight. No cheating remember.  
I smirked at the last comment, rolling my eyes at the paper. The whole message was straight to the point – classic Joker. It clearly wasn’t a question of whether I wanted to or not, I had to. But there was no indication of which club, or when to meet him. I frowned, at the wall in front of me, was I just supposed to guess? I doubted that would go down well with the Joker – I imagined he appreciated punctuation – well apart from his own anyway.  
I looked back at the knife that lay beside me. What was the point of stabbing the table after all? There was no breeze in the room – it wasn’t like it was going to blow away.  
Was it a way to make up for past nights? To make me remember he was still the insane psycho I knew - even if for a moment the other night, he had been almost nice and understanding? Was it a way of saying to still be afraid of him? To remind me of how dangerous he was? Or had he just been angry? Had he had thought about stabbing me, but controlled himself at the last moment? Or was he just insane and felt this was a reasonable thing to do?  
The different scenarios played through my mind - each sounding completely plausible – until I eventually had to sigh and shake them out of my head. I could sit here forever coming up with new explanations for the behaviour, but the truth was, I would never know – I would never understand the Joker.  
Even so, I stayed on the bed a few moments longer before I could fully pull myself together. I got dressed and headed down the now-familiar corridors to the kitchen where I ate my breakfast alone in silence. And my lunch. And my dinner.  
The whole day I wasn’t interrupted by anyone. I caught the occasional glimpse of a henchman, but generally even they made themselves scarce. The day passed quickly and slowly, the minutes dragging, but the hours flying by. And I couldn’t decide which I wanted more.  
I was dreading tonight and facing the Joker again – and that was only if I could get to the place on time. If I didn’t manage to it would probably be an even worse night so the last thing I wanted was the hours to race by. But at the same time, I dreaded it so much I just wanted to get it over and done with so I prayed for the time to fly, the clock instead, dragging its hands.  
So, I tried to avoid staring at the clock for the day as - no matter what I saw - I didn’t like it. Instead I remained in my little piano room with my stack of books again, and spent the time to make myself proper meals rather than just snacking.  
I had retired to the library that evening to while away the evening in the shadow of the books, my only light source being the small table lamp sat next to me. I wasn’t sure how long I had been there when there was a knock at the door causing me to practically jump out of my own skin.  
“Hello?” I asked called out, my voice faltering as I sat up, alert in the armchair I had folded myself into, my heart beating loudly in my ear. The door opened, the hinges creaking slightly with their age, and Frost stepped into the room. I immediately relaxed back into my seat.  
Frost flicked on the main light in the room, the brightness painful compared to the lamp and I had to shield my eyes with my hand, temporary blinded.  
“You’re not dressed?” Frost asked, alarmed, as he looked at me curled up, my legs tucked underneath me in the old, worn armchair that I presumed had been left here from the previous tenants.  
“What?” I asked, confused by the question – I was dressed, I thought, looking down at my jeans and t-shirt.  
“The club?” He suggested, trying to jog my memory “I’m here to take you.” He told me.  
“Right now?!” I asked alarmed. Frost nodded. I looked back down at my jeans and T-shirt which now looked ten times worse than then had a minute ago. Shit.  
“How much time do I have?” I asked desperately, already flinging myself to my feet.  
“Less than 10 minutes.” Frost told me gravely.  
“Ahhhhh…” I moaned now on my feet and pacing, my mind panicking about what I should be doing first and my feet confused where to go. “Give me a few minutes!” I cried and fled the room, taking the staircase two at a time and dashing to the Joker’s room.  
I threw myself into the walk-in closet and swung all the wardrobes open on my side, staring blindly at the many dresses, skirts and tops that hung before me. I groaned at the selection – now was not the time to be trying to work out what was decent. I ran back out of the room and into the hallway again. “FROST!” I yelled as loudly as possible. There was a pause before I heard the footsteps practically running towards me.  
He arrived, hand on his gun, body tense and alert, ready for any threat. When he saw me stood there unharmed he relaxed a millimetre. “What is it?” He demanded, tense.  
“You have to help me!” I told him, yanking at the arm on his gun, taking him by surprise and pulling him into the room, “I have no idea what to wear!” I explained desperately, hauling the bewildered Frost to the door of the closet. “Help me!” I demanded urgently.  
Frost wits seemed to return to him and he dug his heels into the carpet so I was unable to move him, no matter how much I pulled at him. “What the hell do you want me to do about it?” He demanded in surprise at my plea, his professionalism lost in my odd behaviour.  
“You’ve been to these sorts of things plenty of times! And with the Joker!” I pointed out, “You know better than I do what I should wear!” I explained, still hopelessly tugging at his immobile figure. “Now go in there.” I puffed, now trying to push him - the exertion of trying to get him to move getting to me - “And find something – anything – for me to wear!” I pleaded.  
Frost considered me and my desperate state for a moment before he begrudgingly entered the closet. “Thank you!” I cried after him in relief before rushing to the bathroom to get ready where I could.  
When I came back out, refreshed and more presentable, there was a dress laid on the bed in front of me with jewellery laid next to it and on the floor beneath.   
Frost wasn’t in sight. He must have left before I demanded anything else of him.  
I picked up the dress, holding it out and surveying it sceptically. It looked short, tight and revealing and definitely not something I would have chosen myself. I had half a mind to put it back but I didn’t have time and I couldn’t do that to Frost after I had just begged for his help.  
I swallowed my fear and put it on. It fit perfectly. But it fit like a glove. A very tight, revealing glove. It was a relatively simple deep purple dress, simple straps that started thick at the shoulder and thinned as they reached the dress that hovered just over my bust. It hugged every curve of my body, finishing only halfway down my thighs making me tug at it self-consciously.   
I didn’t have time to worry too much though, so I hung a long silver necklace around my neck, the large pendant falling just past the top of my dress, then put on the matching earrings and a single silver bangle on my wrist, before stepping into a pair of dark purple high heels which made me feel 2 foot taller. After dressing myself with everything Frost had laid out, I headed back into the bathroom to finish applying my makeup.   
There came a knocking at the door to the bedroom as I emerged from the bathroom, just finishing running a brush through my hair – I had opted to leave it down, not having the time to mess with new styles.  
I opened it to find Frost waiting. He looked me up and down and must have approved because his face didn’t change to the look of alarm he had given me earlier. “We need to go.” He said bluntly.  
“You look beautiful too Frost.” I said sarcastically stepping out of the bedroom and closing the door behind me.  
“You look more than beautiful, [Y/N].” Frost told me and offered his arm for me to take. I blushed hotly at the comment and dropped my eyes, glad the darkness of the corridor would hide most of my redness.  
I was glad Frost had offered his arm to me as I worked my way out of the house - I only ever wore heels this high when I was on stage and I tended to just stand still if I opted for this height. Without Frost to lean on, I was sure I would have toppled down the large staircase at least 5 times.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------

The car journey took place in silence – Frost not one for small talk and me too nervous about the upcoming night to want to make much conversation with him.  
Eventually the car stopped and Frost got out. I went to follow, but before I could, the car door was pulled open and Frost offered a hand to pull me out. Once back balanced on my heels I thanked him and noticed another, shorter man stood beside me, holding the door open. I thanked him too. Frost handed the shorter man the keys to the 4x4 and led the way forward, this time not offering his arm and forcing me to navigate my way on my stilts without him.  
A little bit of me had been worried the Joker would be at Club 52 – the club I use to run - and I really hadn’t wanted to go back there. But the club in front of me was one I hadn’t seen before, though I had certainly heard of it – it was the Joker’s most famous club – the Circus.  
I myself had never been in, but when you’re in the nightclub business you always hear about the best ones – you need to know your competition after all. It was said to have different theme each Saturday night until the circus theme came around. When it was circus night you either had to be really brave, stupid or insanely drunk to spend a night there. I never quite got why, but I’d heard people went missing on those nights.  
I was really glad it was a Thursday.  
I followed Frost inside the nightclub and down some stairs until he led me onto the main dancefloor. He easily cleared a path through the mass of bodies writhing and grinding around us and I hurried after him, making sure I stuck as close to him as possible to avoid getting lost behind the wall of people that closed up around us as soon as we moved on.  
The blaring music from the giant speakers pounded in my ears and made me deaf to the noise from the people around me trying to make conversation. I was shoved and jolted a few times, narrowly avoiding drink spills and once being knocked off into another person who tried to push me back. I would have become a human pinball if Frost hadn’t grabbed my armed and pulled me back upright. He kept a hold of me after that, tugging me through the room and into a ‘staff only’ corridor on the opposite wall.   
Behind the heavy sound proof door, the music was blocked out to a low rumble and my ears rang with the remnants of the strong vibrations. Though I was enjoying the sweet silence, Frost didn’t pause, continuing down the hallway and I followed quickly after him.   
He led me up a couple of flights of stairs and then down a dark corridor until we stopped outside a door. He knocked smartly, paused a moment, and then pushed the door open, stepping into the room with me following on close behind.  
“Not now Frost.” I heard the familiar snarl from across the room as the Joker brushed Frost’s presence away. Frost has stepped aside to wait, revealing me in the doorway behind him. Now I had a clear view of the room and the people in it. Directly in front of me was a long table with at least 10 chairs sat to the side – probably for any meetings I imagined. Past this I could see the back wall was similar to one in my old club as it seemed to be made of one-way glass that looked out over the rest of the club.  
In front of this, on a slightly raised dais was a large, throne-like office chair with a large, slightly curved desk and - pressed up against the one-way glass window – was a large cushiony sofa which faced the desk and high-back chair.  
I understood the arrangement immediately. The Joker would sit in the large chair and would see the person in the sofa, but also the whole club. If he then spun to the door I stood in he would be placed at the head of the meeting table, even if he was a good 15+ foot away.  
I was too busy taking in the room to initially notice the people in the room, it was only as I searched the room a second time I froze on who sat on the expensive couch.  
The Penguin.  
Though it had taken me so long to notice him, his gaze was already on me, probably noting me as soon as Frost had stepped aside. Shock nailed me in place, my heart sinking and blood running cold. What was he doing here? Was there a plan against me? For me? What was happening?  
The Joker seemed to realise something was wrong in the sudden loss of the portly man’s attention and spun his chain, leaning around the edge of the high-back to follow the Penguin’s eyeline.  
His eyes noticeably darkened on seeing me stood there and I noticed his hand that I could see clench on the arm of the chair before he turned back to the man before him. “Let’s leave this happy reunion there shall we?” He asked and I could see his face splitting into a sickly-sweet grin – clearly not a truthful smile of pleasure.  
The large man nodded, “Of course.” He agreed, pushing his plump figure to his feet and reaching for his hat that was perched on the cushion next to him. He fitted the formal headwear back onto his blading scalp and hobbled his way past the desk and in my direction.  
The Joker followed his movements, his eyes laced with hatred and danger.  
Frost suddenly caught my attention as he stuck out an arm in front of me and I looked down to see him presenting the Penguin with his cane. I assumed it had been seized on entering the room due to its weaponization.  
He thanked Frost and made to hobble to the door, but paused beside me. I turned to him, taking in his greasy hair, beady eyes and large pointed nose with revulsion, “And you - my little dove - are looking more lovely than ever.” He praised in his oily manner before he limped his way from the room, the door closing behind him.  
I shivered in disgust at the interaction and turned back to the Joker, but he had spun his regal chair back around to face the window - though I didn’t need to see him to feel the anger and menace rolling off him in waves. What was I supposed to do - just stand here? Did I go to him? Or was that risking my life? Was I risking my life by not going to him? I looked to Frost with pleading eyes, begging to know what to do. Frost gave me the tiniest of shrugs – clearly, he was at a loss too.  
I swallowed heavily and tried to muster some courage – this could be brave or foolish – and I walked up behind his chair, trying to appear confident in my decision. As I got closer though, my nerves got the better of me and I hesitated at the side of the desk, not looking directly at him, but letting my hair fall over my face slightly and peering through the strands. From what I could see he was staring stonily out into the club.  
“Are you ok?” I asked hesitantly, immediately cursing myself – what a stupid question – especially to a crime lord and certified insane person who was looking like he wanted to stab someone.  
His eyes flashed to mine and the murder in them was so clear that I couldn’t help but recoil as though he had slapped me. But I didn’t turn and run as I probably should have, instead I treaded my way softly around the side of the desk to the sofa, sitting on the opposite cushion to that which the Penguin had occupied a few moments ago.  
I stared uneasily at my lap where I had clasped my hands together, every inch of my body telling me it wasn’t safe be here right now – it was like trying to approach a rabid dog or sleeping lion – one wrong move and he’d snap.  
“I – um – never thanked you for getting me out of that contract with him.” I said down at my sweating palms and – though he made no acknowledgement of my comment – I was sure he had heard me.  
I probably should I have stopped there - quit whilst I was ahead – but my mouth was running now, the nerves getting the better of me. “I just – I see him and I want to –“ I growled out, my jaw clenched in suppressed anger and I gripped my hands together tightly, my nails digging into my skin.  
I thought I caught movement in front of me and I braved a look up at the Joker. My last faltered sentence seemed to have broken the Joker out of his trance of death and violence and he was now looking at me with something odd in his eyes, “Do go on, doll…” He purred darkly.  
“Uh –“ I stammered, my anger had melted the moment I had become aware of what I had said and who I had said it to, and now I was too surprised he was talking to me again.  
He smirked at my look of bewilderment, “Come on doll, I want the juicy details – tell me what you’d do to that puffed up pengie.” He growled with a dark grin, his teeth still clenched in anger at the large well-dressed man.  
“I – uh – well – I – I don’t know.” I stuttered out, my mind wiped clear of what I had been going to say and I was too embarrassed now even if I had known.  
“Hmm,” The Joker considered me and the bright red colour I had become, “Frost,” He called behind him without removing his eyes from me, the henchman appearing at his shoulder in an instant, “Get us some liquid courage.” The Joker growled menacingly.  
I gulped at this, “Uh – no – it’s alright I –“  
The Joker held up his hand at me, “Doll, it’s going to be a long night if you can’t come up with full sentences all evening.” He told me seriously. I shut my mouth then, reluctantly agreeing that this was probably true - I’d only have a couple of drinks after all and I’d be fine.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A few hours later I wasn’t sure what I’d drunk or how much, but there always seemed to be a steady supply of new drinks sent up to us and my drink was constantly being refilled so I was never sure when I had finished a glass.  
This wasn’t without a certain amount of protest however - especially at the start - but no one could disagree with the Joker for long so I had always conceded to ‘one more’ until my resistance was completely worn down with the warming alcohol feeling. I wasn’t the only one - the Joker was matching me drink for drink most of the time - though he seemed to be dealing with it a lot better than me.   
“Do you want to dance?” He suddenly said to me. I had been lost, sat on the arm of the soda, staring out at the vibrant lights that pulsed on the dance floor below and people watching as they danced and chatted to one another – I could get the tone of the conversations thanks to the expressions I caught on their faces when a light flickered across them.  
I didn’t bother to turn when I answered, keeping my eyes on the scene below me. “Not really my scene.” I admitted - maybe I wasn’t that drunk? I might have run a nightclub, but I didn’t generally participate as a customer at them.  
“Not even with me, doll?” He asked, and I could hear the mocking sad plead in his voice.  
“What?” I asked, finally turning to face him where he stood watching me by the long table which now held a collection of different glasses from our many drinks.  
I wasn’t sure I had heard him right.   
He rolled his eyes at my bewildered face, “Dance with me, doll.” He repeated, in a bored tone as though it was the last thing in the world he wanted to do.   
I frowned. “You sound so enthusiastic.” I told him sarcastically, but I still stood up from my perch on the sofa to face him. He growled at me, but I could tell it was playful – even if it wasn’t I think I was too far in my alcohol induced haze to care.  
I turned back to the night life visible through the one-way window, “You actually want to?” I asked, not believing him.  
“Not out there.” He said, having followed my eyeline, “I have a reputation to uphold afterall…” he growled lowly. His voice growing ever closer and I could almost feel him prowling towards me behind my back.  
Suddenly he grabbed my upper arms from behind, his mouth at my ear, “But back here,” he purred seductively, “I can do whatever I like.” With that, he spun me around so I was face to face with him, a devilish grin on his face.  
If I had been in my right mind I might have pulled away at that point.   
Maybe.   
Though I couldn’t be sure.  
“Now, dance with me, doll.” He said, holding out a pale hand in the small space between us.  
“You are so controlling.” I scolded him, but I took his hand anyway, more than a bit intrigued what was going to happen.  
“That’s what you don’t get though, doll” he said, tugging my body so I fell forward into him, his other hand at my back, ensuring I stayed pressed against his chest. “I don’t want control.” He purred in my ear. “I want spontaneity, thrill and chaos…”  
The music that pounded its way up from below was muffled but a generic club song with a fast beat made for jumping and grinding too. This didn’t seem to faze the Joker who instead moved me around the office floor in a waltz-like movement with such accurate steps and sways I wondered if there was a particular piece of music playing through his mind.  
His previous words resonated with me as he pulled me round in our dance. I kept up with him as well as I could but he was light and limber on his feet and I always felt a few steps behind him - though we still seemed to move effortlessly – mainly because I clung to him tightly as he swung me around faster, twirling us both across the floor, in a controlled chaos – one false move could send us both flying, but I just held on, oddly trusting the Joker.  
The music must have come to a climax in his mind because the Joker suddenly spun me out from him so I whirled under his arm. As I spun the world around me blurred at the speed apart from his grin which stayed focused in my mind. I couldn’t help but smile widely at the sensation - I felt careless and free in my intoxicated state.   
When I eventually fell out of it I stumbled drunkenly backwards into his chest, disorientated, giddy and giggling childishly. I leant my head back against his chest, tilting my head up to see his face, a wild grin stretching my face and I was vaguely aware of not having smiled this brightly for years now.   
The Joker looked down into my beaming face and grinned back at me. But this time it was different. This wasn’t his usual menacing grin that sent chills through people, that hid its true meaning behind red lipstick and metal teeth. No, this one looked genuine and happy and - in that moment - I felt stone cold sober.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I didn’t remember clearly what happened the rest of the night. After that, I had called for more alcohol and drowned myself in it, scared of my own feelings.  
The next time I was conscious of what I was doing was back at the mansion in the Joker’s bedroom, the cold evening air having driven away some of the alcohol’s warmth. I remembered being exhausted, somehow getting dressed, and then collapsing into the bed.  
I had wrapped myself into the duvet before I felt another person get in the bed next to me. Then cool warms wrapping around my body and pulling me back against the Joker’s chest. I didn’t resist, instead allowing myself to fit snugly in the shape of him, relaxing against him and the safety I had felt in that moment.  
I could feel the warm haze of the alcohol wearing off even more as I lay there, but I let myself enjoy the moment, a small smile appearing on my lips as I drifted into a heavy slumber.  
I felt the Joker shift behind me, then felt his lips on the top of my head, “I think, doll.” He purred lazily down at me, “That I win.”


	47. Chapter 47

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys!
> 
> Sorry it’s taken so long for me to get this out but I had a bit of writer’s block on this particular story and I’ve lost my inspiration and enthusiasm for it a bit (probably because I feel I’ve lost the Joker’s real personality a bit now) - but I was not going to give up on the story - especially as I think there’s only 2-3 more parts left of this series now!
> 
> So here it is - it took a while and I’ve just spent the last 3ish hours trying to work out all the kinks so I apologise if it’s not the best piece! :S
> 
> Enjoy anyway and thank you to everyone who continues to support my writing! You guys mean the world to me!

I woke to an empty bed next to me again. It didn’t surprise me, use to it by now and my head too preoccupied by the events of last night that came rushing back to me. I closed my eyes tightly against the replay, the regret achingly painful.  
I had been an idiot. An absolute idiot.  
What had I been thinking?! Why didn’t I walk away when I’d seen Penguin? That alone should have triggered enough in me to cause me to run screaming from the room.  
Even after that, why hadn’t I left when the Joker had been in a bad mood? When he’d completely ignored me and clearly shown he hadn’t wanted me there with him – any logical person would have taken this as enough and just up and left – why had I stayed?  
I guess I knew though. I’d admitted it to myself several times before now.   
I liked the damn clown.  
And in that moment, when I had seen Penguin sat on that sofa, puffed up like the proud bird he was, that sickening smile on his face, I had been sharply reminded of what I had been through before - that damn contract. And I was suddenly aware that snarling green haired man opposite him had been the one to get me out of it without – it seemed so far – asking anything in return.  
I guess something in my heart went out to him in that moment, contrary to the constant reminder I chanted almost hourly that this man was in fact a villain, a murderer, and a lunatic. Even with that thought still firmly in my mind I couldn’t walk away from him in that moment.  
But then I had stepped in it. Whilst trying to break through his sullen mood I had nearly slipped my control on my ‘Bobby’ half, nearly confessing to the rage I still felt at Penguin. I couldn’t help it – that bird-like man had caused my temper flare. I’d hoped that Joker was still ignoring me at that point, but – of course – he’d picked up on it immediately and questioned me over it, causing me to fall back to my old, nervy self, and barely managing to string a sentence together in my embarrassment I refused to admit my lack of control to the Joker - God knows what he’d do with that information.   
But - thanks to the abrupt return of my timid, introverted self - I then could not find the bravery within myself to turn down the flow of drinks that followed after that.  
And then we’d danced. And then I’d smiled. No. I hadn’t smiled. I had grinned – beamed - even giggled.   
I hadn’t giggled since I was a little girl.  
Why?!  
Pointless question. I knew the answer. It had been the happiest I had felt in a long time.  
The cold truth this morning though, was the fact it was probably all a lie.  
True, last night I had felt special for a moment - for a silly drunken moment. I had felt like the Joker had actually wanted to dance with me – like he actually wanted to be around me and might have even enjoyed it himself for a moment.  
But now I could see that wasn’t possible.   
I opened my eyes so that I now stared up at the ceiling, the room already bathed in daylight, only muted slightly by the still-drawn curtains. I had questioned how he would make me smile, but now I knew.  
I hadn’t expected him to be so cruel, and angry tears burned in the eyes. But he was - after all - the Joker. He could make anyone believe anything - a master manipulator and player of the game – and I should be angry at myself for thinking anything more of him. How could I have even let myself think for a moment that it might have been true? But, though I could blame him for the waves of shame that now rolled over me as I lay in the bed – as he was the one who had manipulated these feelings in me – it was really my own stupidity that had led me astray – why wouldn’t I think the Joker would sink to such tactics as making me fall for him to win? It wasn’t like the man had morals.  
And I knew it was true. I had fallen for him. Properly. Completely. Because, even now when I should hate him with every inch of my body, I could only hate myself. Something in me stopped me from blaming him. Told me it wasn’t his fault. That it wasn’t right to be mad at him.  
I let out a long, loud groan, placing my hands over my eyes and scrubbing vigorously at my face before rolling onto my side.   
I was ridiculous.  
I removed my hands from my face, my vision focusing once more on the empty bed across from me. This too, only brought back the painfully mortifying memory of late last night and I let out another pathetic groan, recalling how I had caved into my urges and actually curled into him – it had been too tempting an offer last night in my drunken naivety – when I didn’t want the night or that blissful feeling of happiness to end.  
Now it was a foolish error on my part and I screwed my eyes tighter against the pain in my chest, causing the hot tears to roll down my face.  
I then lay there for a while, my head buried into the pillow as I tried to calm myself a bit. But eventually I knew I couldn’t put it off much longer. I couldn’t deny that the Joker had ‘won’ our bet and I now had to face what happened next – whatever that was.   
I must admit I was surprised he hadn’t hung around this morning to gloat at me and claim whatever it was that he wanted. I shifted in the bed so I faced the clock and suddenly realised the time. It was almost midday. I shouldn’t really be surprised thought -that’s what alcohol did to me. I rarely got hungover, but I always slept late the next day and chances were, I’d be a bit light headed for a bit.  
I pushed myself so I sat upright in the bed, correct in my previous assumption when I felt my head spin. I hung my head for a moment, trying to steady myself once more. I had options – true - but none of them appealed to me. I could stay here all day – hiding from the inevitable. I could try to run - but he was bound to catch up to me and then the consequences would probably be even worse. Or, I could just face the music and go and find him.  
I grimaced at my lap as I let my head hang, the wooziness subsiding. I tried to work through things in my head, searching for any loopholes I could find in the agreement we had made.   
Eventually I pushed myself out of bed, getting dressed slowly to prolong the confrontation and buy me time to find a way out of this. However, all too soon I was heading to the block, my spirits low and my heart panicky.   
I stopped outside the heavy dark wood door that led to the Joker’s office. In that moment I hated myself. I hated that, though the fate of my own life hung with the man behind the door I still really wanted to see him again, a part of me couldn’t wait to open the door and see that pale face, that slicked back green hair, that signature bloody smile. There was something about him that continued to drag me back, something that made me want to be around him – even when he’d played and hurt me.  
I paused, taking a deep breath and steeling myself, before I knocked lightly on the door and, without waiting for a response, pushed the door open before I could talk myself out of it.  
I slipped into the room quietly, carefully closing the solid door behind me so it only made a soft thud as it fell back into the frame.   
The room was quite dark and I had to wait for my eyes to adjust before I could take in my surroundings. It has hard to make out the colour of the walls as shadows lurked at the sides of the room, but the floor was a plush carpet under my shoes. On the opposite wall to me, heavy-looking curtains covered the large windows, the only light from them coming from a small slit down the middle of the window. The main light source came from a lamp sat on the huge wooden desk directly across the room from me. Behind this desk, the Joker sat in a dark red shirt - the top buttons undone as usual - pouring over numerous papers spread out over the table top.   
“Morning, doll.” He greeted, disinterested and not moving his gaze from the papers in front of him. I didn’t say anything, I just stood there questioning every reason I had for being in here. The whole room was intimidating, let alone the man sat before me. I was feeling increasingly embarrassed again.  
“Doll?” He inquired at my silence, glancing up from his work with a raised invisible eyebrow. I still didn’t say anything, remaining in place and unable to make eye contact, my gaze focused on the bottom of the desk where it sunk into the thick, golden carpet. At my lack of response, J straightened up, abandoning his work and looking at me properly.  
“Clown got your tongue?” He teased, and I finally looked up at him, his eyes intense even across the large distance between us, the jesting not meeting his eyes or his mouth his remained in a frown.  
He must have seen something in my eyes – perhaps the hopelessness I felt – because I thought I saw something flicker in his blue eyes when I met their gaze.  
“You said it last night.” I spoke finally, stepping into the room a bit further, the waver in my voice giving away the emotions I was trying to keep in check, but I was still determined to not look as weak as I felt. “You won.”  
His face lit up with recognition. “You’re right, doll...” He drawled, a lazy smile appearing on his face, “I did.”  
He didn’t say anything else, just looked at me, mischief shining in his eyes. I frowned at him, confused. Did he expect me to do something? Was he trying to mess with me even more?  
But just like that, he turned back to his work, as though our conversation was over. I didn’t move – was that honestly all he was going to say to me? No explanation or even hint as to what he wanted? What was I supposed to do now?  
I took a step forward, trying to subtly get his attention. He didn’t look up, still ignoring me. I cleared my throat slightly, though my nerves stopped me from making it very loud, but in it still felt like it resonated in the silence of the room. Still nothing. I shifted my feet impatiently.  
“If you have something to say, doll…” The Joker warned, and I could almost hear the jaw clench in his voice as he spoke down at the papers, still refusing to make eye contact with me.  
“Yes.” I declared, startled that I suddenly had his attention, even if that was what I had been trying to do. “I – uh – I want to know what happens now.” I stated, firmly, though the nerves in my voice was all too clear.  
“Nothing.” He said, his face hidden from my view as he remained focused on his work.  
“Nothing? What do you mean nothing?!” I demanded in surprise, causing him to shoot me a warning look, his eyes dark. I ignored him, “You’ve won!” I cried.  
“It’s time then, doll,” He sneered, “To get a high score.”  
I just stared blankly at him, “What?”  
“That’s the whole point in a game isn’t doll?” He asked mockingly, baring his shining teeth at me, “It’s not just about winning – it’s about who gets the highest score overall.”  
I was more than confused now. “Those things are mutually inclusive.” I pointed out, against my better judgement, “And besides, that only works if you’re playing against someone.” I grumbled.  
“Are we not playing, doll?” He asked with a raised invisible brow.  
“No.” I retorted sharply. “I don’t want to be a part of your messed-up games anymore! I only agreed to this on the off chance I got my life back! Now I’ve blown it all because you –“ I stopped mid-sentence. I could see he was intrigued now, but my mind was elsewhere. I’d suddenly realised something. “You cheated…” I muttered my eyes wide open in sudden realisation.  
“Cheated?” repeated the Joker, with theatrical innocence, “You think I cheated, doll?”  
“You promised not use sexual advances on me!” I exclaimed, my mind whirling, “And I class last night as a sexual advancement!” I said quickly, clinging to this little idea I had which might get me out of this, “I smiled – sure,” I admitted, “- but you cheated so it doesn’t count!”  
The Joker’s eyes darkened, no smile on his face. He rose from his chair and stepped around his desk slowly but purposefully, “I think, doll,” he growled darkly, “that we need to define what a sexual advancement is.” He began to move towards me with lithe, prowl-like movements.   
I gulped and everything in me told me to turn tail and run the opposite direction, but I was stuck in place by his eyes again – the danger clear in them, despite the main light now behind him and most of his face in shadow. “I don’t think that’s necessary.” I protested quickly, managing to move a step back.  
“No, no.” He tutted, his voice low but smooth, “We don’t want any more confusions, do we? He purred, a slow, sinister smile spreading across his face, though it didn’t reach his eyes.  
He was in front of me now, looking down at me hungrily. “Now, doll.” He purred, “Is this a sexual advancement?” He was only about a foot away from me and I could already feel my throat drying up. “I suppose not.” I croaked about, determined to remain in control and steeling against his behaviour, but a part of me was screaming for him to come closer, for it to be like last night.  
His hands suddenly grabbed at my hips, “What about this?” He asked, not breaking eye contact with me.   
“Definitely.” I said, swallowing when I felt his touch prickle my skin, heat seeping out from his palms and warming my entire body, feeling the redness in my cheeks.  
He pulled me sharply, taking me by surprise and unbalancing me so I was forced to step forward, flinging my arms out and catching myself on his chest, my body now pressed up against him.  
“Now?” He asked, his face so close he breath brushed against my face.  
“Yes.” I croaked out. Trying to ignore the feeling of every inch of his body pressed against mine. I had entered this room hating him and cursing his name for his tricks and games, but now I was being sharply reminded of why I had so easily fallen for him when my defences were down last night.  
His hands, still at my hips, began to move so I shifted where I stood, rubbing against him, the feeling causing every inch of me to burn and I had to fight back a moan, my fingers instinctively tightening on his chest so I gripped at his shirt. I could feel the muscles under my hands tense and Joker dipped his head toward mine as he leant towards me and I felt his breath travel across my cheek and down the side of my face, feeling a sharp pain as he nibbled at my earlobe, causing my pulse to pound against my skin.   
“And this?” He purred seductively into my ear.  
What was he asking again?  
“Umhum.” I managed, swallowing thickly. Great I was losing the ability to form words now. It only just occurred to me that I wasn’t breathing and I quickly took a deep breath. He stilled my hips, now running his hands up my body, causing every nerve in my body to tingle. I didn’t move, afraid he might do something if I did, but also afraid he might stop.   
He pulled his head back, away from my ear, as his hands travelled to my neck, brushing the sensitive skin forcing me to hold back shivers even as my body burned. His left hand then wrapped around my neck, gripping, but not hard enough to cut off any air to my lungs. His other hand continued to roam, moving to my cheek and running along my face until he reached my lips, the cool, pale fingers, tracing them gently. His eyes were focused solely on his task and I watched him in rapture, unaware of anything else in that moment except his stormy eyes and the rich scent that filled my throat and tasted of smoke and cologne.  
I made the most of our close proximity, taking the time to study every inch of his face, my eyes falling on his own lips which were partly slightly where his harsh breaths escaped and cooled my own damp lips. I was suddenly acutely aware that it would only take a slight head tilt from either once of us for our mouths to meet. I was tempted - so tempted.  
Suddenly his gaze flickered to mine, the movement catching the corner of my eye and I lifted my gaze to his, knowing from his look that he knew exactly what I was thinking. His eyes flickered back to my mouth and I thought he was going to do it then – to close the gap between the two of us. He inched closer and I closed my eyes, feeling his lips only millimetres from my own.  
“I win, doll.” He purred against my lips.   
It took a while for the words to perforated my fogged mind but then my eyes shot wide open, every previous sensation in my body plummeting in realisation. I finally dropped my hands from his chest and I tried to pull back, panicked by what he said, but he gripped my throat tighter, holding me fast where I was. What did he mean he won? How? I tried to look anywhere but in his eyes, humiliated once more that not only had he seemed to have outsmarted me, but he’d easily turned me into a weak, fluster fool and I had no alcohol to blame it on this time.   
His grip tightened even more and I gasped as my breathing became restricted. I brought my hands up to my neck, grabbing hopelessly at his fingers to try to alleviate the constriction, finally looking up at him.  
The minute I made contact with his eyes once again, he released some of the pressure on my neck, though I didn’t drop my hands, just in case.  
I watched him, frightened what he’d do next – after all, I was completely at his mercy in this position. But he looked calm, calculating, though I thought I could still see a trace of the hunger in his eyes that showed he had been a little effected by the previous moment between us.   
“If I remember correctly, doll.” The Joker sneered down at me, still helpless in his grip. “I asked you to dance…” he drawled. “And you accepted.” I didn’t say anything, wondering where he was going with this, but too concerned that he might snap at any moment and continue to throttle me.   
“There was no ‘toying’, doll,” he jeered, “No ‘playing’.” A knowing, malicious grin spread across his face, and he leant forward, closing the distance between us once again, “You wanted it.” He purred seductively, his faces centimetres from mine, “I win.”  
I couldn’t think straight. All that ran through my mind was a series of curse words, my mind too panicky to actually think straight. Focus. There had to be a way around this – something to prove he’d somehow cheated.  
Nothing. I couldn’t think of anything. I had to face the fact. He hadn’t cheated. He had won fair and square. I had been foolish enough to let my guard down not once, but twice now, and I had to pay for it.  
The Joker must have read the defeat in my eyes because he finally released my throat.  
As soon as I was released I stepped back, rubbing at the tender skin on my neck where I was sure I’d get a bruise.  
The question now was. What did the man who had the power to get anything, want from me?  
The Joker was watching me with hard eyes, as I tried to plan multiple scenarios that could now happen and what on earth he could possibly want from me. “You look like you’re thinking too hard, doll.” He teased, but his face was serious.  
I hesitated before I spoke, “I – I’m just trying to figure you out.” I admitted.  
He let out a sharp bark of laughter, a knowing smirk on his face, “Don’t do that, kitten - too many people have tried already,” He said, “And they end up more insane than me!” He exclaimed wildly, his eyes flashing.   
I watched him warily, but I believed him – his mind was not a rabbit hole I wanted to fall down.  
He grinned as I conceded to this, turning back to his desk.  
“So, what happens now then?” I called to his back in a moment of bravery, my voice raspy from the bruising.  
He paused for a moment. “As I said, doll,” He began, sitting himself back down at his desk, facing me, “it’s time to get a high score.”  
“And what is that supposed to mean?” I asked, impatiently, feeling braver now he was on the opposite side of the room again.  
“I’ll see you tonight, doll.” He told me ignoring my last comment, his head already back down and focused on the papers still on his desk.  
I scowled at him, about to protest, but I knew that it would be a lost cause and I didn’t want to push my luck - my throat painful enough for one day.  
I showed myself out of the office, pausing in the corridor when the door closed behind me.  
I honestly had no idea what was going on anymore. Had he won? Yes – that was clear to me now. And yet he wasn’t claiming on the bet? Why not? Was that what was happening tonight?  
But then, what did he mean by getting a high score? Was he intending to keep trying to make me smile anyway? But he’d already done that once - what was the point?  
I jumped when three henchmen suddenly appeared at the bottom of the staircase in front of me, all three of them covered in a chalky dust and a two of them carrying documents of some sort. They jogged up them remaining steps and I side stepped them quickly before they bowled me over in their attempt to reach the office door. I frowned at them in confusion, wondering what they were up to, but then I thought better – bound to be some sort of criminal act I didn’t want to know about – and I began to move off down the hallway. A gun shot sounded behind me and I spun around facing back down the corridor. Nothing. No movement. It must have come from the Joker’s office. I gulped, thankful I wasn’t in there anymore, before I turned back around and continued along the hallway – certain I didn’t want to get involved.   
What on earth was I supposed to do now?


	48. Chapter 48

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys, sorry about the delay, I've been taking turns to write different parts to different fan fic series so there are longer delays between parts now!  
> Also I've been trying to rework this chapter a lot to figure out where its going (and I'm still not 100% sure! haha) bare with me - I'm sorry if the story isn't great anymore, I'm just kind of winging it till it's finished and I can start a fresh on a new story!  
> Thanks for sticking with me!

The rest of the day dragged – the worry of the evening heavy on my mind. I tried to occupy myself as usual but I couldn’t seem to concentrate on anything, my mind too busy worrying about what the Joker would possibly want from at the end of all of this. It was a complete waste of time and worrying, as I’d never know the answer, but I couldn’t stop myself.  
As the evening finally began to fall, I found myself once more in the small front room of the mansion, tapping mindlessly on the piano keys in an attempt to occupy my mind away from the possible outcomes of this evening – though I was wholly unsuccessful.  
I was now trying to ignore the world around me as I sat on the little stool, playing a small childish tune as the darkness engulfed the room around me. I had no care for what I was doing – my mind blissfully unthinking as I focused on which key to press. The tune was simple and basic – one that was taught to children when they first learn to play, something they’d think was amazing and complex when they first tried. The tune had a high pitch so my hand remained at the top keys, flowing smoothly without much thought until I finally pressed the last note, letting it hand in the air a bit.  
Suddenly a slow clap broke out from behind me and I practically jumped off the stool in surprise. “Jesus!” I couldn’t help myself crying as I spun around to face the noise to find none other than the Joker sat in one of the armchairs by the unlit fire, a tumbler of amber liquid by his side. He looked handsome and dangerous in a black shirt, his chest exposed as usual and the dark material only accenting how pale his skin was.  
He stopped clapping, “No, doll, just me.” He grinned widely, “Though, I do consider myself god’s only child.” He teased.  
“Don’t you ever knock!” I gasped, still feeling the after effects of my minor heart attack.  
“Last time I check, doll,” He sneered, reaching for his drink, “this was still my house.” He said, taking a sip from the glass. His tone was relatively light, but I could hear the danger in his words which warned me not to think about telling him what to do.  
I realised my mistake and bit back my retort quickly before I dug myself a hole I couldn’t get out of. J seemed content with this silence as an apology and the hardness in his eyes seemed to fade slightly.  
“Get dressed doll,” He instructed, changing the topic, “We’re going out.”  
I frowned, “Where?”  
“That is the surprise.” He grinned widely, “Wouldn’t want to ruin that would we, doll?”  
I eyed him warily, I didn’t like the sound of this. “Ok... Then what’s the dress code?” I asked carefully, watching him, trying to get any hint I could about where we were going.  
“There are clothes laid out for you.” He dismissed, with a flick of his hand. “Be quick doll, we don’t want to be late.” He purred, there was something dark in his eyes and – though it didn’t feel aimed at me – it still made me uncomfortable. What was I getting myself into now? I hesitated a moment longer but then took my leave, heading quickly out the room - not liking having my back turned to him – and practically ran up the stairs. He still unsettled me and I wasn’t sure if it was because he was psychotic murder or because I had feelings for him.  
Sure enough, when I reached the bedroom, a saw that a set of clothes had been laid neatly out on my side of the bed. I examined them, they didn’t look too bad this time – a pair of smart jeans and a stylish top - I might actually be happy to wear this tonight. Even the heels didn’t look too high – they were almost practical. Clearly wherever we were going was not as fancy as last night.  
I got ready and went back downstairs, heading to the small room. I wasn’t surprised when I found the room empty - I had half expected the Joker to have vanished when I returned, having gotten bored or distracted and pawned me off to Frost to deal with as usual. I stood in the doorway looking at the empty seat and sighed heavily. What hope did I have with the guy – even if I wanted to – if I wasn’t good enough to keep his attention for more than a moment?  
“Lose somebody, doll?”  
I jumped again, spinning to face the Joker who stood behind me. I hadn’t expected him to be as close as he was and I ended up practically nose to nose with him, instinctively taking a step back from his intense gaze.  
I thought I saw something flicker in the Joker’s eyes, but then he turned away and it was gone. “Come on, doll. Don’t want to be late.” He growled, heading down the hallway, deeper into the house. I followed him as headed to the end of the hallway, turning behind the stairs and taking the same door as I had originally arrived through with Frost.  
We retraced the same route back to the large cavernous garage, and I hesitated in the doorway, taking the room in again. It was the same as the last time I saw it, the large collection of high performance cars still to my right, but the usual group of 4x4s on the left was missing, ony two remaining parked silently in the dark. I frowned at this, did his men have the night off? Or were they all out doing something? Was I part of that something?  
Unlike me, the Joker hadn’t paused and instead had strode straight over to one of the sports cars – a bright purple Lamborghini. He must have hit a button because the lights flashed suddenly, lighting up the darkened space momentarily.  
“Problem, doll?” He asked, turning to see me stood in the doorway. I wanted to say yes, I wanted to let out every question and worry that was running through my mind – where were we going? What were we doing? What was his plan, his end goal? Why wouldn’t he tell?  
But I didn’t say a word, keeping my mouth shut and just hurrying after him instead. I paused at the side of the car, going to open the passenger door and watching in amazement when it didn’t open out like a normal car, but instead swung upwards. I marvelled at the car, I had never been this close to this much money – this thing was worth more than my old club – definitely more than my life.   
I slipped in, awkward and embarrassed at being in the presence of such luxury – preferring to ride in the 4x4s which at least felt slightly normal, even if they were bulletproof with blacked out windows.  
The Joker was already in the driver’s seat and starting the car before I had worked out how to close the door. The engine roared around us and I hadn’t put my seatbelt on before we roared out of the large garage and onto the quite suburban street.  
The growl of the car felt out of place in the silent neighbourhood and I felt embarrassed to be part of the reason the peace was broken. I glanced over at the Joker who was staring hard out the windscreen, his claw clench as his mouth a straight line. He was either concentrating very hard on something or he was mad. I wasn’t sure which so I remained silent, gripping at my seat as we hurtled down the hill towards the city doing at least double the speed limit.   
The road was empty this far out of the city at this time of night, but the roads became busier as we drew closer to the city centre where there were still a few late night commuters and the mass of taxi cabs transporting people to nightlife destinations. The Joker, however, didn’t let up on his speed, the only change to his driving was the reckless swerving he did to overtake and cut off other cars on the road. I gripped my seat tighter, wanting to shut my eyes but instead they just seemed to open wider as I watched car after car narrowly avoid us.  
The Lamborghini took the manic driving in its stride, overtaking the other cars with ease, never losing grip on the road beneath us, and smoothly drifting around the junctions when J took the corners too fast.  
The city blurred past my window, as we sped through the centre making it hard – along with the darkness of the night – to make out where we were or where we were going. I was pretty sure whatever we were doing was in the city and the more we drove the more I panicked – we must be close surely?  
The few landmarks I could make out soon vanished and the streets quietened once more, few cars on the road and few people walking the pavements. It all made me nervous.  
The number of streetlights began to reduce till we were basically driving through darkness, except for the small area of road dimly lit by the headlights in front of us. There were no lights on or in the buildings around us and, from the limited view I got from the glow of the headlights, the road was now lined with abandoned warehouses and boarded doorways. We must have travelled straight through the centre of town and were now on the outskirts by the docks.   
If I hadn’t been panicking before, I was now. This was where everything dodgy happened, where secrets meetings took place and black-market deals happened. An area of Gotham I made it my mission to never enter out of respect for my life.   
“W-Where are we going?” I croaked out, my panic getting the best of me and forcing me to say something. The Joker snapped his head over to look at me as though he’d forgotten I was in the car with him.  
A slow, sinister grin spread across his features and he returned his eyes to the road again, “A little detour, doll.” He growled, “To have a little fun.”  
“What is that supposed to mean?” I asked, not liking the sound of this at all.  
“It means, doll. That we’re going to pay little Pengy a visit - though he won’t be home.”  
That didn’t make any sense and the new information did nothing to stem my panic. I just wished he’d stop talking in riddles and hints and just tell me what was going on.  
I didn’t bother to probe any further though, he clearly wasn’t up for giving me a straight answer. Clearly what we were doing had something to do with Penguin, yet Penguin wouldn’t actually be there?  
I frowned to myself as different scenarios and ideas flew through my mind just like we flew through the maze of warehouses. Eventually, however, the Joker pulled outside one of the many identical warehouse and I felt my stomach drop through the floor. This was it.   
The Joker slid elegantly out of the low car and I hesitated a moment before I followed – knowing there was no way he would just let me stay in the car. I scrambled out, the Joker already waiting on the pavement, his eyes on a figure that was walking up the street toward us.  
J hadn’t seemed to tense at the appearance of the figure, but I couldn’t determine who it was in the darkness, only that they carried a torch. The only light source near us was a singular streetlight on the opposite side of the street – and even this flickered unreliably – and so it was only as the man got within several feet of us, that the light caught his features and I recognised Frost.   
I felt myself relax at the familiar face, “All set up inside, Boss.” Frost stated, stopping opposite us.  
“Good job, Frosty.” J sneered, “Let’s go play with our little Penguin buddy.” He grinned wickedly, before he turned and headed down an alley behind us that ran down the side of two warehouses, leaving me stood on the pavement in the chilly air. I looked back across at frost in a silent question of whether I was supposed to follow.   
He looked back at me before inclining his head and gesturing chivalrously for me to go first down the alley. I followed after the criminal clown, though he was already out of sight - having been swallowed up quickly by the surrounding night - and I felt Frost bringing up the rear behind me, though he moved silently for a large man, his feet barely making a noise on the tarmac underfoot.   
I wandered down the alley blinding, Frost’s torch making shining past my side my side to illuminate a small path for me. I didn’t catch sight of the Joker again but I followed the only route that was available to me – straight ahead. Eventually the alley opened up into a large tarmacked area around the back of the warehouse and I could hear the soft lapping of water beyond this and the wind was much stronger, pulling at my bare arms and making me shiver. Frost now aimed the torch light back at the building and onto a door which I began to heat to, carefully not to trip over unseen obstacles that lay on the floor.  
I tried the door, half expecting it to be locked, but it swung open for me and I stepped inside, the corridor bitch black and even darker than the night outside. I hesitated in the doorway, J was still nowhere in sight, and no sound came from inside the warehouse. I felt Frost step up behind me and I stepped into the corridor, my hand on the walls either side of me so I didn’t hit anything. Eventually I felt a doorframe and realized I must have reached another door – this open already open – probably thanks to the Joker. I stepped through and I lost the walls either side of me as the room opened up, and Frost stepped past me, shining the torch light around the room showing just how huge the room was. The ceiling towered above so high the torch barely reached it, and I couldn’t see the back of the room, partially because of the distance, and partially because objects that blocked my view.  
I stopped where I was, only a few steps into the room, unsure what on Earth was going on. I turned to the man now stood next to me. “Frost, what are we doing here?” I asked, my voice cracking from lack of use. I hoped if J wasn’t around, then Frost might be willing to tell me something.  
“Business.” He answered as though that was all I needed to know. I wasn’t giving up that easily.  
“What sort of business – where are we?” I persisted.  
“This,” He gestured the torch light around the room again, “Is one of Penguin’s warehouses.” He told me. Shit.  
“Why are we here?” I asked, almost desperate now. This whole thing was going to get me killed – you couldn’t just walk into a crime lords warehouse and expect to leave with your life.  
Frost shrugged again in the limited light, “Boss wants to send a message.”  
I gulped, that sounded ominous. “Why am I here?” I asked, confused – surely, I was no use in this situation. A hindrance at best.   
Frost hesitated again, and I could see he really didn’t want to answer this question. But he was stuck with me now - J having long left us by the looks of things – and I wasn’t going to drop it if I knew he knew.   
“Frost.” I persisted, almost whining. I heard him sigh in the dark.  
“Boss has been muttering something about bringing you to one of these things for a while now – I don’t know why,” He defended quickly, “I suggested this one because I thought it was the safest – most guaranteed success – but J agreed far too quickly for my liking.” I scowled at him through the darkness, not liking the idea that I had people arranging my fate behind my back.   
We stood in silence for a while then as I processed the fact that the Joker somehow thought it worthwhile for me to come along and be stuck in a freezing cold warehouse in the middle of the night whilst he did god knows what in an attempt to piss off the Penguin.  
I was annoyed. I was pissed. But I was also resigned to the fact that I was here now. “So, what are we doing?” I asked – might as well play along if I was stuck here anyway – plus my intrigue was getting the better of me.   
Frost looked over, shocked at my sudden change of heart. “What?” I retorted, putting my hands on my hips, “It is Penguin after all – he does technically deserve it.” I pointed out. I couldn’t tell if Frost now looked shocked or impressed – maybe it was both.   
He seemed to shake himself out of it though, “We’re on lookout out duty.” He explained. I raised an eyebrow at this – though I doubted Frost could see it in the dark – it sounded so cliché, like it was out of an old crime movie. “We shouldn’t have to do much,” Frost continued, “there are a few guys inside keeping watch and I have a large perimeter around the area to alert me if any of Penguins men shows up.”  
“So, you’re telling me they just leave this warehouse empty every night?” I asked in disbelief, “There can’t be anything that important in it then?”  
“Big guys with guns aren’t the only security that exists, [Y/N],” He pointed out, as though insulted for Penguin that I would suggest such a thing, “- most of us rely on technology now. Plus, men just make it obvious that there is something worth stealing.   
“As for the cameras and alarms,” He continued, “– I’ve had men working on it. All are disabled for a small window tonight for the Boss to do what he needs to do.”  
I nodded along. Sounded like it made sense – though I doubt I’d be able to see even the hugest flaw in a plan.   
We fell back into silence for a moment until a loud crackling noise broke the quiet and echoed around the high-roofed room, making me jump about a foot in the air. I glanced around the room frantically trying to find where it was coming from, my heart beating erratically, panicking that someone had got through Frost’s defenses. The source of the noise became apparent when Frost, reached for his side and unclipped the crackling radio from his belt.  
Frost pressed the ‘talk’ button and spoke into the device, “What is it?” Asked Frost, clearly annoyed at the loud, intrusive noise.  
A crackle came back and I thought I could hear a voice but it was broken up the loud hissing and white noise.  
“This bloody place is blocking the signal.” Frost muttered to himself, dropping the radio to his side and turning to me. “Sorry, [Y/N}, I need to head back outside to deal with this. Stay here.” He instructed. Without waiting to hear a response he turned and began to head back where the door had been. He suddenly paused, turning back, to me, “Take this,” He said, handing me the torch. I was about to protest, but he interrupted me, “Don’t worry I’ll be fine.” He turned his attention to his jacket pocket and withdrew something, also handing it over to me, “You might need this as well.” He said and I shone the torch onto his hand. It was my handgun.  
“How long have you had this?” I demanded in surprise, eyeing the weapon. Someone must have gone back to my apartment to get this from where I stored it in my desk drawer – they would have had to have searched the entire my entire flat to find it!  
“A while.” He admitted, “Look, you shouldn’t need it – but, just in case.” I took it from him reluctantly and gripped it tightly, hoping he was right and that I wouldn’t need to use it.  
Content that I had everything I needed, Frost nodded at me and turned once more, disappearing out the door and back down the dark corridor, I watched him go with the beam of the torch on his back.  
And so, I was left in the cavernous, pitch black room, the autumn night air whistling through the room and around my lone figure. I took comfort in the small dim circle of light at my feet provided by the torch, and the weight of my little gun in my other hand at my side.   
I wasn’t sure how long I waited for Frost to return, but it felt like forever, especially now the coldness was getting to me and chilling my bones. I wrapped my arms tightly around my chest, tucking my gun into the crook of my elbow and keeping my torch pointed out in front of me.  
Soon the cold became too much, and my nerves made me restless, so I began to pace, only a few steps back and forth to start with, but soon I gained confidence and began to wander the huge warehouse.   
From what I could gather from my small patch of light, the room was basically empty except for the occasional pile of rates, boxes and stacked old furniture.   
I almost intrigued what this warehouse was used for – the fact that it was on the docks made me think the obvious use for it would be for transport. I’d heard that the police believed Penguin to be one of the main ring leaders of the trade of stolen goods – that criminals sought him out when they wanted to shift their loot without anyone tracing it back to them. The police had never been able to charge him for it, because they never managed to collect enough proof to prove it. Looking around the large empty room, I could see now why – there was nothing here.   
Eventually I reached the other side of the room and my torch fell on several doors in the wall that must lead deeper into the warehouse. If what Frost said was true, there shouldn’t be any problem with me continuing to explore – there shouldn’t be anyone else here, but J and maybe a few of his men. Besides – Frost had clearly got caught up in something else so I might as well entertain myself whilst I waited – if only to stop myself freezing to death – it might be warmer back there after all.  
I examined the doors before choosing the one on the far right. I pulled at, then pushed it, but no use. It was locked. I frowned in annoyance but moved to the next one, trying it and was almost surprised when this one swung open. I shrugged to myself – I guessed this one would do - and so I headed inside.  
The door was heavy and it swung closed behind me, the sudden thud making me jump slightly. Immediately though, I felt warmer thanks to the closer walls and the reduced airflow. I could feel my heart beating quickly, the silence and poor field of vision keeping me on edge, even though I tried to convince myself that there was nothing waiting for me in the darkness ahead.  
I steeled myself and continued down the corridor until some concrete stairs which appeared to have a strip of carpet down the center. It just felt typical of Penguin – try to make everything look luxurious, even concrete. I climbed the stairs none the less, trying to remind myself I was the only one here. At the top of the stairs I reached a hallway that ran from left to right. I paused - wondering which way to go - when I heard a thudding noise from my right. To me it sounded almost like someone was hitting something else. Then I heard it – a high pitch, if slightly pained, laugh echoing down the corridor. I froze instantly. I guess I had found the Joker.  
Clearly, he was busy doing something – something I probably, once again, didn’t want to know about or be a part of. I went to turn around and head back down the stairs, but then the noise renewed and the laughter sounded again. I froze once more. The laugh struck me as wrong. It was different to the many times I’d heard it before, more forced, more echoing. It hid something.  
I couldn’t help myself, I headed down the hall in the direction I had heard the sound, keeping my feet light on the wooden floors beneath me - though they still creaked under my weight causing me to freeze in place each time, though I saw no other movement in the dark corridor.  
The noise got louder as I carried on down the hall till I saw a door outlined with light in the darkness. I shut off my torch, tucking it into my jean pocket and moved towards the door outline, pressing myself up against the wall to the left of it. The noise was undeniably coming from behind the door, the thudding clear through the thin door, each of the Joker’s laughs sounding shaky and out of breath straight after each thumping noise.  
The Joker wasn’t giving the punches. He was taking them.  
That wasn’t right, the only people in here should be Joker’s men.  
I had to do something, but I didn’t know what. I crouched down and reached for the door knob on the other side of the door to me, turning it silently and ever so slightly pushing the door open giving me a tiny window into the room.  
I couldn’t see anything expect a small strip of the room and what looked like a part of a chair, but the sound reached me clearer now.  
“Truss him up, lads.” Gave a familiar squawk that sounded like it was right next to me. I jumped but, upon darting my gaze around frantically, I soon realized the voice had come through the thin wall next to me. “Don’t be gentle.” Added Penguin and I could almost hear the sinister grin in his voice as he enjoyed the show. Just then I caught movement in my small crack in the doorway, two men came in and out of view as they move, appearing to me dragging a body across the room, quiet pathetic giggles bubbling up from the limp figure. I recognized the bright green hair immediately as they towed the body - though it was no longer slicked back into its usual neat style - instead it looked knotted and messy, strands falling forward over his face which I couldn’t see.  
The two men appeared to throw J onto the chair at the edge of my view, and - though I couldn’t see most of him - I saw his arm fall limp by his side and I had to stop myself from gasping. The shirt sleeve was rolled up to his elbow and his usual pale lower arm was covered in red lashes, smudges of blood smeared across the skin.   
The men grabbed at him, heaving him so he sat up straighter and I shifted in my crouch position to try and see J better. I could see his face now and this time I had to cover my mouth to stop the cry from my lips. His face was decorated with different shades of bruising, one of his eyes swollen and blood ran down his chin from his nose and busted lip. His shirt was torn and filthy, every inch of skin I could see was beaten and discolored just like his face and arm and there were bruises around his throat - as though a rope-like device had been pulled tight around his neck.   
He didn’t bother to struggle against their man handling, letting them do what they wanted with protest. I returned my gaze to his face again where he had a permanent grin stretched across his face as he continued to chuckle quietly to himself even though he didn’t seem able to keep his head up anymore.  
The image of him slumped there, battered and abused pained my chest, pulling painfully at my heart.  
Some people might have thought he deserved – would have turned and left him there to suffer like he, himself had done many times before – but I wouldn’t. I couldn’t.


	49. Cahpter 49

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys, next parts ready.  
> I was quite happy with this chapter, now I'm reading it again and I guess the ending is a bit rushed so I apologise.
> 
> Hope you enjoy anyway!  
> Thank you for all the views and reviews! I really appreciate it!

“Good job, boys.” Penguin praised from the opposite side of the door to where I crouched, the sound of his voice betraying the grin on his face. I watched through my small window between the door and frame, as the men withdrew from where they had been restraining the Joker to a small interrogation chair. I cringed as I caught sight of the bloodied and beaten man once more.  
I had to do something, I couldn’t just sit here and watch it all unfolding, especially when I had no idea what Penguin’s end game was – though I highly doubted it involved the Joker leaving this alive – after all, why would it?  
I glanced back pointless behind me to the empty corridor, most of it hidden in the darkness. I had to face the facts – I was doing this alone. No one was going to come to my rescue if I screwed this up – Frost was occupied elsewhere and the Joker was strapped to a chair half beaten to death. There was the option of trying to find Johnny, but I wasn’t sure how much time J had left for me to start running around searching for help. I needed to do something. Soon. Even the Joker deserved a better death than this.  
I slipped as close to then gap in the door as I dared, my gun feeling heavy in my hand as I held it close to my body. I continued to watch the scene through my limited view, fiddling anxiously with the weapon in my now-sweating hand, ready to use it at any sign that I had been discovered.  
I could sit here forever, biding my time. But it wouldn’t help anyone.  
I raised the muzzle of the gun so it fitted between the door and frame, aiming it at the two men opposite me. My hand – and the gun – were shaking like mad and I brought my other hand up to help steady my aim. I lowered my head so I stared down at my bent knee and took a deep breath, briefly closing my eyes.  
Do it.  
In one smooth motion I lifted my eyes, immediately choosing my target across the room and releasing a single shot I heard, rather than saw, the man drop to the floor, already retreating around the door frame as a hail of bullets rain into the wooden door, puncturing small holes and filling the air with miniscule splinters.  
I waited for a pause in the fire before taking my chance and crouching back behind the bullet ridden door and taking the one shot I could get, not lingering to improve my aim. I heard the cry of pain as the bullet hit the remaining man’s leg, causing him to buckle at the knee. I darted back behind the door frame for a split second, barely pausing before I took the chance and flung myself back into the firing line to release another bullet straight into the man’s skull so he fell alongside his comrade.  
I threw myself backwards, pressing myself up against the corridor wall, sheltering in case of any unaccounted-for men who might now join the fray and try to take a shot at me.   
But nothing happened.  
I left out a breath I hadn’t know I was holding, gasping shakily for air I hadn’t realized I needed. My heart was erratic in my chest and I relaxed my grip on my gun, slowly peeling away each finger from the handle, noting the pressure marks etched into my palm from where I had clung too tightly in my concentration.   
No one was shooting at me, but that didn’t mean there weren’t more people in the room. I pushed myself unsteadily to my feet, feeling my top cold and damp with sweat, my limbs shaking from the adrenaline. I moved back towards the door, feeling vaguely unbalanced on my feet, grabbing the handle and, this time, stepping completely into the room, using the door as a flimsy shield as I pushed it open. I scanned the room as it came into view, all the time, my gun raised, my finger itching on the trigger for any sudden movement.   
I soon determined the room to be empty apart from the Penguin and J and that we seemed to be stood in some sort of office – possible the Penguin’s. The furniture was dark but simple, a desk stood in the middle of the room, slightly pushed to the back, and filing cabinets and locked cupboards lined the walls. The few windows in the room were covered with blinds, only allowing thin cracks of light to leak through and strike the floor, the rest of the visibility coming from dark shaded lamps around the room and the dim light bulb in the center of the ceiling. There was only one other door in the room which stood ajar directly behind Penguin and, through the darkness, I could just make out shelves that suggested it was a store cupboard of some sort – this must have been where Penguin and his goons had waited to ambush the Joker.   
“Ah! Just in time my little sparrow!” Exclaimed Penguin, beaming at my appearance from being the damaged door, seemingly unfazed by the death of his two men a moment ago. I immediately trained my gun on him, watching him warily, though I couldn’t stop my gaze occasionally flickering to J who seemed to be quietly giggling away to himself as he was drunk on his bloodloss. “Though, I must admit, such sharp shooting as that which I just witnessed, made me presume you were the loyal lap dog, Johnny!” He exclaimed. I took in the odd little bird man as we stood there, both sizing each other up - though him less obviously so.   
He was in his usual get-up of a smart – if slightly out dated – suit and waistcoat with the gold chain of, what I could only imagine to be a very expensive pocket watch, protruding from one of the pockets. His monocle perched precariously over his left eye and, as we stood there, he reached up to adjust his top hat that concealed his fast receding hairline.  
“Drop the gun.” I instructed firmly, flicking my wrist that held my own handgun at his pistol that he had pointed directly at the Joker. He hesitated for a second -possibly weighing up the likelihood of me going actually doing anything if he refused – but I saw his eyes flicker to the bodies behind me before they returned to mine, allowing the weapon to clatter onto the floor. “Now kick it over there.” I instructed, nodding behind me where the bodies lay, a small pool of blood growing next to each. Penguin didn’t hesitate this time, immediately doing as I commanded and sending the gun skidding past me with a flick of his bad leg. I watched the weapon out of the corner of my eyes as it collided with the arm of one of the dead men, finally coming to a stop.  
“Oooo hoo hoo!” Came a giggle from my right that made me jump slightly, “This is gonna be good!” I glanced at J, who was sitting slightly more upright now and grinning widely where he sat, still tightly bound to the chair. I gave him a warning glare, now was not the time for his ridiculousness. “Just look this, doll!” He exclaimed energetically, completely ignoring my hard stare. “The two men you hate the most. Both of us having done you wrong. Both of us at your mercy! You won't get another chance like this, Princess, best make the most of it!” He beamed manically, excitement bright in his eyes and I wondered how many knocks to the head he’d had.

“Shut up!” I snarled at him, though I part of me stored what he said. They were both at my complete mercy. I could do what I wanted with these criminals. Let them go. Turn them in to the police. Kill them.  
J didn’t seem to care about his though – he looked practically ecstatic about it – which made me suspicious. But, Penguin, however, was looking anything but pleased about the circumstances he found himself in, I look of loathing painted on his face as he stared coldly at the beaten Joker.  
“Aww, come on, doll!” the J whined next to me. “Do something exciting for once in your life! Take the risk, live a little!” I glanced back over at him in confusion, not completely sure what he meant, “Don’t you want to rid yourself of this feathered fool?” I turned my eyes back to the Penguin. “No one would miss him.” Purred J, his voice quieter and smoother as he egged me on, “After all he’s done to you, after all he’s driven you to have to do…?”  
“Ha.” I snorted angrily, abruptly spinning to face the Joker on his spindly chair, “Like you can talk!” I cried heatedly, “You’ve done nothing but trick, toy and play with me since I met you! You’re even trying to do it now!” I cried, “Hell, you’re the reason I’m even here in the first place - And I’m almost certain it’s because of some manipulative plan you have for me! Why else would you drag me out here with no explanation just to have me stand in a cold dark warehouse?!” I cried furiously, letting my emotions fuel my words. “So, tell me.” I said, panting slightly, “What was it you wanted to happen tonight? What was your ‘big plan’ behind dragging me out here with you?!” I demanded, my jaw clenched.  
“I wanted exactly what’s happening now – for you to show me that other side of you that you fight so desperately,” He grinned sinisterly, a knowing look in his eye. “Though this was not the way I had originally planned.” He admitted, soberly with a nod, “But I take what I’m given.” He said, the grin returning instantly.  
I felt the anger in me flare up again. This wasn’t fair, I had him at my mercy, at gun point, and he was still winning. I clenched my teeth, fighting back the angry tears I could feel burning in the corner of my eyes. “God!” I screamed, “Nothing's real with you, is it?” I cried, the agony clear in my voice. In a split second, I was certain I caught a glimpse of surprise on his face, maybe it was shock that I had the gall to talk to him like that, or maybe it was shock at the rawness of my emotions. Either way it vanished with a blink of his stormy eyes.   
I caught movement out of the corner of my eyes and I suddenly remembered that the Penguin was still in the room with us. The very thought of the man only added fuel already burning hotly in my head.  
“And you!” I cried furiously, turning my attention back onto the stout businessman “Don’t think I don’t blame this all on you!” I stated hotly.  
“My sweet –“ Penguin began, throwing his palms up when the gun faced him once more.  
“No!” I cried, fiercely, not wanting to hear his whimpered excuses. The gun shook my hand as I gripped it tightly, feeling the edges dig painfully into my palm, though I didn’t feel it. “You’re not using any of your greasy charm on me!” I snarled, “You were going to rent me out to men! To Two-Face!” I cried, jabbing the gun in his direction as I spoke.   
Penguin flinched at every reckless movement of the gun. “No, my dear!” He exclaimed, “I'd never do that! It was merely a threat,” He insisted desperately, “A bluff!”  
“Why would you need to threaten me?!” I demanded, irate and confused, “I did everything you told me to!”  
“Except you never did the one thing I wanted you to!” He cried angrily. I saw something flash in the Penguin’s eyes and it was my turn to cower. I hadn’t seen him look that dangerous before.  
“I gave you ever possible opportunity to rid yourself of that clown shaped fiend!” He roared, jabbing a chubby finger at J, “I allowed unchecked weaponry in my building! I spent my own cash on teaching you how to use it! I gave you every opportunity available to get you and that clown in the same room!” He yelled, furiously. “A man you swore you hated!” He added, hotly. “But what happened?!” He demanded, “Even I could see it! You fell for the fool!”

I stared at him in shock. Never for one moment had I thought that anything that had happened whilst I had been working for him, was because he had wanted me kill off the Joker.  
Penguin made the most of the numbness that had taken over me, and spun around - rather smoothly for a large, overweight man – and snatched up his umbrella which I hadn’t seen propped against the wall behind him. He swung it around as he turned back to me, crashing it into my hand that held the gun out at him. I heard a sickening crack and the gun flew from my hand into the corner of the room. I grabbed my hand instinctively, the fire now spreading along my nerves, and cradled it to my chest as it throbbed.  
Penguin returned the umbrella so it pointed back at me, before flicking a minute switch I couldn’t see, resulting in the tip of the umbrella falling open to reveal the barrel of a gun.  
I was defenseless now and could do nothing. “Put ‘em up, my dear.” He scoffed, indicating my hands with a slight gesture of the umbrella gun. I reluctantly raised my arms, palms facing him, and I could already see my right hand was red and swollen compared to the other.  
“Something I’ve learnt, my little sparrow,” Penguin began, hobbling himself toward me a few steps, “If you want something done,” He snarled, pausing in front of me, his breathing heavy from his exertions and I grimaced at the foul air, my body tensed, ready for him to shoot me. “You've got to do it yourself.” He stated, abruptly turning so now the gun was turned on J.  
“No!” I cried in distress. I couldn’t help myself and I automatically reached out a hand towards the weapon that held my gaze.  
“HA!” Penguin barked in an angry laugh, quickly turning the gun back on me and stopping me in my tracks. “Even now, my little song bird – even after all the anguish and torment he’s put you through - you still want to shield him!” It was true, I might have just been aiming a gun at him only a moment ago, but I had known there was no way I could have pulled the trigger. “You appear to continue to suffer this ridiculous notion that every feeling you have isn’t just a little game of his.” He sneered, limping back towards me. I couldn’t help it, I began to step back, trying to maintain the distance between us. “That maybe – deep down in his hollow torso – he might actually express a similar weakness!” He laughed harshly before the grin faded from his face and he stood still, a look of almost pity took over.   
“I don’t want to have to kill you, my dear.” Penguin said, his voice quiet and croaky from his yelling, “But I won’t think twice if you try to stop me again.”  
When I made no sign of retreating, or that anything he had said had made any difference to me, I saw his eyes flare again.   
“Wake, my sweet sparrow!” He cried dramatically and I flinched at the loudness, “See what the rest of us all see!” He called, swinging the umbrella back to point at the Joker “– the insane piece of filth with no more place on this Earth than the cockroaches that invade homes!” He spat.

I watched in horror as he turned to face J once more, advancing on him quickly, throwing his weight forward with every limp, dragging his useless leg behind and refusing to use the gun as a stick to aid him. I could do nothing as he reached J, ramming the tip of the umbrella up under his chin.   
I hadn’t watched the Joker this whole time, but now I let my eyes focus on him. “The feeling’s mutual my feathered friend.” Growled the Joker darkly, his eyes hard and defiant on his enemies and his familiar grin still just as bright - as though he couldn’t imagine being anywhere else nowhere in that moment. I couldn’t believe he was so calm and uncaring under the barrel of death that pointed at him.

I had to do something right now. I didn’t have time to think anything through. I panicked and the next thing I knew I found myself running blindly across the room at the Penguin, throwing my weight against his side and - thanks to not having his umbrella to steady himself – managing to knock the large man off balance, tackling him to the floor.   
He let out a cry of pain as his hip collided with the hard flooring, and I made the most of his distraction to wrench the umbrella out of his grasp before he could gather himself together again. I turned the muzzle on Penguin as he shoved himself onto his elbows, grimacing in pain. When he caught sight of the gun-umbrella aimed at him, he froze. “Get in the cupboard.” I snarled nodding to the door behind him which remained slightly open from where they had jumped J. Penguin hesitated only a moment before he shuffled backwards, dragging his bag leg over the rough floor. I followed him, tracking his movements with the umbrella, until he was far enough inside for me to slam the door on him, quickly grabbing a nearby filing cabinet and dragging it so it blocked the door, barring Penguin inside.   
Once I felt that Penguin was safely dealt with I let the umbrella drop from my hands so it clattered onto the floor next to me. I could feel my legs shaking from what I had just done, the adrenaline still running in my veins and I stared at the floor trying to let my mind catch up to my actions. That could have ended completely differently. With my dead body alongside the other two.  
“Ahem? Doll?” Came a polite, but slightly irked voice behind me. I spun around in surprise, suddenly remembering J was still tied up behind me. I ran over to him, my eyes immediately travelling to a red streak against his pale jaw that I hadn’t noticed previously. “Oh shit, J! You’re bleeding!” I cried, his nickname slipping out of my mouth without thinking thanks to using it so much in my own mind. I grabbed at his neck, tilting his head without hesitation, to see a shallow gash where the umbrella must have caught him when I crashed into Penguin. I examined it carefully for a few moments before I became acutely aware of what I was doing and how much I was manhandling him, without – it would seem – any objection. He hadn’t even tried to break from my grip, even though it was possible with the small amount of movement he could manage whilst still tied to the chair – there was nothing holding his head in place.   
I tore my eyes away from the wound now, though I made sure to move my hand to cover it in an attempt to stop the flow of blood. I directed my gaze to his eyes instead. He was staring at me. Staring with a look that I wasn’t sure I had ever seen from him before. Seen from anyone before. It wasn’t just hunger, there was something more vulnerable there for the first time since I’d met him. The first sign of weakness I had ever seen from him.  
But then he must have moved because he was kissing me, my eyes quickly closing against the feeling of pure heaven that I found with his lips. I forgot about holding any pressure to the wound, my hands slipping up his neck to cup his face and pull him closer to me. I gasped for air, breathing in his scent and he deepened the kiss. I could feel my heart racing and I didn’t care, ignoring the rest of my body, and focusing only on the hard, cold cheeks under my fingers and the rough lips pushed up against mine.  
I felt the growl against my lips before it reached my ears, “Doll, if you don’t untie me real soon, I’ll promise you’ll regret it.” Reality hit me and I opened my eyes, quickly breaking away from him and diverting my eyes with embarrassment at my behaviour, but not before I caught a look of the heat in his eyes. I didn’t know how I could tell, but I knew the threat was empty, but I dropped down to my knees anyway, busying myself with the complex knots.  
I can’t believe I had just done anything that had just happened. My fingers trembled with the remains of the adrenaline and the effects of the passionate kiss.  
The moment that Joker was free, I was wrenched upright by my shoulders and shoved roughly backwards till I was pressed up against a wall, the impact knocking the air out of me. He planted his hands on the wall either side of my head and bent down, his lips finding mine immediately. My arms hung limp at my side, quickly lost in the moment and too focused on the heat that rushed up my body to think about anything else. J’s mouth travelled down to my jaw, his harsh breaths tickling my skin and he nibbled at the sensitive area on my neck and I bit back a moan, letting my head roll back against the wall.  
I heard footsteps, but they didn’t register in my mind. I moved my head upright and J’s lips sought my again, stealing my breath away till I practically gasping under his mouth. Then there was another louder creak and my eyes lazily drifted past J, over his shoulder, to see Frost stood out of breath and rather scruffy by the bullet ridden door. I pulled back hastily from J’s mouth, blushing profusely at the situation we’d been found in. I heard a growl from the Joker, but I couldn’t look at him, still breathless and my cheeks were burning. Frost stood frozen in the middle of the floor, trying to keep his eyes anywhere but at us. He glanced around, his eyes lingering on the bodies still lying together on the floor.  
J pushed off from the wall and turned to the head henchmen, his eyes dangerous. J stared at him for a few beats and there must have been a silent command in that look - a promise to deal with him later - then, without another word, he grabbed my hand and towed me after him out of the room, leaving Johnny to clean up duty.   
J didn’t release me till we reached the car. I made no attempt to stop him, just allowing myself to be towed along, too surprised that he was holding my hand at all.  
The drive was silent as well, J made no sound, his eyes hard and cold, looking anywhere but at me. It was only once we pulled back into the garage at the mansion that he acknowledged my existence again. He at my passenger side door before I had even unfolded myself from the car. He caught my shoulders as I stood up, immediately pushing me backward into the car and pinning me there, his lips finding mine again. “I thought about this the whole way here.” He growled against my lips, he tugged me closer, his body pressing up against mine. His grip was tight on my body, but I didn’t care, in that moment I didn’t want him to let go, the heat I had felt burning back at the warehouse was quickly reignited. I didn’t want to think about what had gone in the warehouse other than the kiss. I knew I should hate J, not want to be anywhere near him, but his lips and hands were quickly making that very hard to remember.   
“It’s time to do something I’ve wanted to do for a long time.” Joker growled in my ear. I didn’t protest. I didn’t say anything. J seemed to take that as enough and he wrapped his arms around me, pulling me into his arms.


	50. Chapter 50

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok guys, I apologise for the length of this one (over 8,500 words) but this is the last chapter of Deadly Voice  
> I REPEAT THIS IS THE LAST CHAPTER OF DEADLY VOICE  
> I feel like 50 parts is a good place to stop so I've tried to wrap it up, I apologise if there are questions I haven't answered (tbh I probably forgot I asked them!)  
> Also, I realised the Joker is out of character several times in this! But I'm currently living off 2 hours of sleep and this took forever to edit so the last thing I want to do is spend another couple of hours fixing it all right now so I'm just going to post it anyway - sorry about my laziness! :S
> 
> But I would just like to thank each and every one of you guys for sticking with me throughout this whole story (if you have haha) I would never have gone past part 1 if you guys didn't encourage me to keep going so THANK YOU SOO MUCH!  
> You have no idea how I LOVE YOU GUYS!!!!
> 
> I will continue to write more Joker series, so feel free to check out my other writing! (shameless advertising - ok there is a bit of shame! haha)

I woke up early the next morning when I tried to roll over and felt a firm solid restraint around my torso. I frowned in through the dark, my mind still half asleep. I felt for the restraint, finding myself gripping at a muscular arm that wound around me.  
Suddenly I felt the arm tense and I found myself being pulled backwards so that I pressed against a solid object behind me, bare skin to bare skin.  
“Where do ya’ think you’re going, doll?” Came the sleepy growl behind me, warm air winding its way into my mass bed-head hair.  
Awareness of my situation hit me at once, my whole body turning rigid. I was in bed – naked – with the Joker. I had slept with him last night. I couldn’t believe it. How had I lost that much control?  
Last night rushed back to me, the warehouse, the Joker beaten black and blue, the men dead on the floor thanks to me, Penguin’s numerous confessions. The whole night had been one emotion after the other, all the adrenaline, worry and panic, all accumulating to a point where I done something I told myself many times never to do. Give into my feelings for the Joker.  
Though surely, I could put some of the blame on J? I had never instigated any of what transpired last night. I had simply just never refused. J had made the most of my lack of control last not, not that complained, even now I knew there wasn’t a point last night where I had wanted any part of it to stop. I had wanted everything that happened last night. And I still did.  
I felt my cheeks warm at this thought, all too aware of how close he was too me and the moment, and glad I wasn’t facing him because I was sure my face would give me away.  
It was true I hadn’t really been myself last night, too wrapped up in the moment, but now my every nerve was on edge. Why was he still here? I had kind of been counting on him not being here in the morning – like usual – so I could have some time to gather myself together and figure out what to do now.  
So much for that.  
“Relax, kitten…” The Joker purred in my ear, his hands running down my body, clearly sensing each fibre tense under his touch. It wasn’t that his touch revolted me – he knew from last night that wasn’t true – but I was frightened of what happened now. Had he finally got what he wanted from me? Would he just throw me away now? Or worse, would he silence me completely?  
His arms continued to stroke along my body, but, when I wasn’t able to do as he commanded, I felt him grab me, pulling me towards him so I now lay on my back. I was acutely aware of how exposed I now felt, and I self-consciously pulled the blankets higher up my chest.  
J watched my movements almost with amusement at how uncomfortable I was in our situation. I could feel the heat in my cheeks burning hotter now and I couldn’t bring myself to look at him, instead choosing to stare directly up at the ceiling.  
Suddenly there was were strong, callused fingers gripping my chin, turning my head so I forced to look directly at him. I still tried to keep my eyes low, but a soft growl made me look, finally meeting his gaze.  
His eyes were the icy cold she knew well even in the dark, but the rest of his face, though mostly hidden by the night, kept the scars of last night. The cuts and bruises coloured his face in different shades of black through the darkness, though none of them seemed to mar the beauty of his sculptured face. A face she could stare at all day if it wasn’t so intimidating.  
The blanket only came as high as halfway up his stomach and she could make out the inked artwork that painted his shoulders, chest and arms, clear as day even in the dark compared to his pale skin.  
“Why so tense, doll?” He questioned slyly, “Sore?” His eyes shamelessly held mine, a wicked glint to them. He finally released my chin and I broke out gaze momentarily, the intensity in his eyes too much to maintain on my own. I swallowed dryly, but I couldn’t answer him. He probably thought I was just embarrassed and awkward about what had happened – and I was, especially now that I was being forced to face him - but that wasn’t the whole story. Yet I couldn’t explain to him how I was panicking that I may just have gone and signed my death sentence by sleeping with him.  
It hurt enough to think that he might just ditch me now, that he had got what he had wanted and would finally decide to leave me alone. I had wanted that for so long, but now the idea of never seeing the familiar grinning pale face made me cold. But that was what I could see happening – him now kicking me out of his house and for now on, me only see him in stories in the news of him wreaking havoc over Gotham.  
However, an even more worrying conclusion to all this, was for him to get rid of me in a more permanent way via a bullet through my head. After all, why leave me alive? That wasn’t how J worked.  
“You look like you’re thinking too hard, kitten.” J purred down at me from where he was propped on up his elbow, his free hand tracing along my collar bone and making me shiver from the light, ticklish sensation. His voice held a note of warning to it though, as if he was angry I had the gall to concentrate on anything but him in that moment. I lifted my eyes to his face again, his gaze was still on mine, but it seemed as though his face was closer now, though I didn’t remember seeing him move. The next thing I knew his lips were on mine and I could feel the worries that were plaguing my head already retreating to the recesses of my mind out of reach. I tried to not react to his touch but I couldn’t help it, soon shifting so I now faced him and moulding my own mouth to his. He teased me, never quite letting our bodies touch at any point but our lips and I was using every inch of my willpower not to move, to worm myself closer to him, instead I focused all my attention on remaining motionless apart from mouth.  
J broke the kiss, “So restrained, princess…” He growled playfully, against my lips, but his voice was deep and gravelly from lust and I could tell he was holding himself back almost as much as I was, refusing to lose the game I didn’t know we’d been playing. “But I wonder why, hmm?” He asked, his lips trailing to my jaw.  
Now I wasn’t staring directly into his eyes, I felt slightly braver and I pulled my worries back to the forefront of my mind.  
“Because I’m waiting for you to get rid of me.”  
“Hmm…” He hummed lightly, not moving from where his teeth nibbled at my jaw line, “Seems like a poor way to thank you for your aid last night, doesn’t it doll?” He asked innocently against the underside of my jaw, his lips on the sensitive skin making it hard for me to breathe subconsciously. It still amazed me how lightly he could talk about murdering – especially to the person in question.  
“I wouldn’t put it past you.” I muttered, trying to sound annoyed at his lackadaisical attitude, but I couldn’t help my voice wobbling thanks to the attention he was now paying to the tender area of my throat. I had a feeling he was trying to distract me.  
He chuckled against my skin at my remark, the laugh reverberating through his body and into mine, sending impure feelings through me again. I shifted restlessly beside him, still fighting the need I had for more contact with him as his lips promised pleasured with kisses at my collarbone and sin with light nips at my shoulder. I felt him grin against my skin at my writhing, knowing he was winning.  
“J-“ I practically moaned and suddenly his lips were on mine again, swallowing any sound I made. He kissed me passionately, only breaking it when I was sure I would pass out from lack of oxygen. “So you don't want to get rid of me?” I asked drunken and breathless, giddy from his lips.  
“Not today.” He admitted with a devilish grin, barely giving me time to register how little this comforted me, before he pulled me on top of him and I was lost in the moment once more.  
\-----------------------------------------------------------

“Why are you still here?” [Y/N] had asked out of the blue later as they had laid once more in bed. “You're never here when I wake up.” She added.  
She was curled up, once more, on her side, her body fitting perfectly up against his own. There was a dim light in the room from the early morning sun and J ran his hand up her side, enjoying watching as she shivered under his touch. He let his hand sweep over to her stomach, feeling her muscles tense under his touch.  
He was glad she’d stop talking about leaving, it annoyed him that all she wouldn’t just live in the moment like he did. That was the problem with most sane people, they never appreciated things, they were always looking for the next thing to worry about.  
“Thought I deserved a line in.” He answered simply - he wasn’t about to tell her the real reason; that the chaos died down in his mind when he was with her, that it was so peaceful for once, that he could truly sleep properly when she was around.  
He’d never tell her that.  
And he’d never tell her that he slept so well last night he’d managed to sleep past his usual early morning rising, waking up along with her instead, for the first time.  
She seemed content with his answer anyway so J didn’t need to elaborate his lie, both of them falling back into a comfortable silence as his tattooed hand trace her small, delicate figure.  
“What happened to the Penguin?” She suddenly asked, practically jumping at her own voice. He let out a deep sigh – she was more talkative now she had finally somewhat relaxed - though he could still sense something tense within her.  
“Nothing.” He said gruffly. He didn’t want to talk about the puffed-up Penguin with her. He still hated the man for ever laying eyes on the girl curled up against him, hated the idea of her working for him all those months, of him even breathing the same air as her. J hated Penguin more for what he did to his doll, then he did for Penguin tying him up and nearly finally putting an end to him last night.  
Of course, he’d never tell her that.  
“Nothing?” [Y/N] repeated, shifting to look over her shoulder at him. He held her gaze in silence for a moment, they were warm and soft, like they had melted in the heat that had been between them only a few moments ago. He knew she would begin to squirm soon under his gaze, but she was holding strong so far. Eventually he stopped toying with her, shifting his own gaze down to watch where he walked his fingers along her arm, watching the goosebumps erupt beneath his fingertips.  
“Frosty seemed to think…” J drawled in a tone that said he was less than impressed, “it was better for me to let him go…” He had spoken to Johnny in the early hours of the morning when he had slipped away from [Y/N] briefly before she had awoken earlier. Frost had done his usual magic trick of cleaning up after J, promising no trace of his whereabouts apart from a disgruntled Penguin who hadn’t appreciated being stuffed in a storage cupboard for several hours.  
“What?” [Y/N} asked, shocked, shifting herself around so now she fully faced him again. He couldn’t help watching every inch of her body as she moved, he already wanted her again. “Why?” She demanded, oblivious to the sinful thoughts going through J’s head as he stared at her. She sounded almost as angry as J had been when Frost had originally suggested releasing the Penguin.  
“Leverage, doll.” J explained, as though it were obvious “The bird owes me now.” He said with an evil smirk.  
He watched her as she thought this through, her face contorting into a frown, then lightening as she came to terms with the result, though he could still see that darkness behind her eyes – like she wished something more had happened to the plump aristocrat. J grinned across at her, letting her know he had seen that flicker of resentment.  
She blushed at this, sensing she’d been caught and dropped her eyes, though this just made her stare at his chest. She seemed to realise this and blush even harder if possible.  
J laughed at her embarrassment and [Y/N]’s eyes automatically tracked to where his abs contracted under the force of his mirth, making the tattoo grin on his lower stomach to writher. When her eyes returned to his he saw the now-familiar heat in her eyes, the look that bewitched him somewhat, calmed his mind, yet enticed a similar flare in the pit of his own stomach.  
When [Y/N] looked at him, she saw two blue pits of lust and sin looking back at her. 

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------  
When I woke up again, the room was full of midday light and the bed across from me was empty. I had to wonder if last night had truly happened, or if I just dreamt. I soon dispelled any thought of imagining last, however, when I shifted slightly on the mattress and I felt many of my muscles complain from the movement.  
J was right. I was sore.  
I soon sat up none the less, only cringing slightly when I pushed myself to my feet. I grabbed for my makeshift pyjamas of J’s shirt and sweatpants which lay in a pile on the floor from where they had been thrown off the bed the night before, pulling them before I traipsed to the bathroom to examine myself.  
I knew I must look a state after everything that had happened in the last 24 hours, but I wasn’t ready for what I saw in the mirror. My hair was a state, frizzy and messy, sticking out in odd places, the traces of the small amount of makeup I applied last night were smudged across parts of my face and my lips were still slightly swollen from the night of passion. I splashed water on my face, scrubbing my skin clear of the night before, and dragged a comb through my hair. It was only then that I saw them: blossoming smudges of green, yellow and blue curling around my neck. I pulled the collar of the shirt away examining the shadows of where J’s fingers had wrapped passionately around my throat. I pulled the shirt down further, catching glimpses of a few love bites around my collarbone. I admired the marks, but soon I couldn’t help but look at them with a sadder smile, would these be the only things I had left to remind me of J? I started to wish that they scarred.  
“Afternoon, doll.” I jumped, releasing the shirt and snapping my gaze to the background of the mirror where J behind me. I quickly spun around to face him lounging in the bathroom doorway in a pair of his usual smart black trousers with a dark purple shirt that hung open to reveal his chest and the familiar golden chains around his neck. His hair was combed neatly back as always, the only difference to his usual appearance were the remints of last night’s attack on his body which I could clearly see now in the daylight: the cuts on his cheeks and chin, the bruises that added some colour to his otherwise pale complexion.  
“Always so jumpy, doll.” He tutted, as though this was a common flaw of mine. His eyes then took in my clothes and he pushed himself off the door frame, standing up straighter as his eyes flared, the ice blue seeming to melt and burn. He stepped towards me carefully, stalking, prowling, “You know, princess…” He drawled seductively, his eyes falling on where the shirt lay open on my chest, barely above my cleavage, “Every time you wore those, you teased me…” He growled lowly, his eyes dangerous, “Always looking like you’d just rolled out of my bed after a night of sin and sex…” He was slowly, teasingly stepping closer and I could feel my heart in my throat. “And yet, I never got to touch you…” He murmured quietly as though talking to himself. “Until now…” He purred, closing the gap between us in one step, his hands grabbing my hips and pulling me up against him as his lip immediately found mine.  
I melted instantly against his now-familiar body shape, easily falling into a blissful carelessness and soon as he touched me. His hands soon moved from my hips, working their way under my shirt, and fanning over my stomach. His hands should have chilled me, but everything he was doing to me was just making me burn even hotter.  
I had to stop it before I got lost again.  
I pulled back from his lips, “Wait, J.” I said, quietly, already gasping for air. His hands slid out from the shirt as I stepped back, his eyes darkening and his jaw clenching.  
“Doll?” He asked tensely, I knew how much he hated to be denied what he wanted.  
I swallowed thickly, I had to stand strong and not let him intimidate me. I needed to know before I did anything more, I couldn’t keep putting it off in the hopes of never having to confront it. “We need to talk.” I started, dropping my gaze, unable to look at him when I was trying to hold myself together. “I need to know what happens next.” I told him warily. “After today.”  
“Why?” He said, quietly, almost coldly. The question took me surprise and I glance up angrily.  
“Why?!” I demanded back at him, “Because I need to know if this is my last day on this Earth, or if I’m going to be thrown out like a piece of trash tomorrow!” I cried angrily, feeling hot tears in my eyes. He said nothing and that silence only filled me with more dread. I hung my head in defeat.  
I made to push past him, unable to be near him any longer. He might not have said a word, but I knew what happened now. I could see myself out.  
I didn’t get very far however, J snatched his arm out as I tried to storm past him and I walked blindly into it, not realising until he was already curling his arm around me. He pulled me backwards until I was held tightly with my back against his chest. “Ah, ah, ah, doll.” He tutted, holding me with an iron grip. Any other time I might have welcomed the contact and closeness, but now I just wanted to be as far away from the man as possible.  
“Let go of me.” I huffed angrily, trying to shift one of my arms free, desperate to be away from him and not appreciating the man handling. I squirmed and wriggled in his grasp, but he was too strong for even if he was only using one arm, and I was soon tiring. “Keep going doll,” He breathed in my ear as I began to slow down my efforts, “That feels good.” He teased wickedly. This only fuelled my annoyance at him however, proving to me that he truly couldn’t take anything seriously. I stop wriggling none the less – the last I wanted to do was encourage him.  
Even when I fell limp in his arms, he barely loosened his grip around me, instead he brought his free to my neck, brushing away the strands of hair that sat over my shoulder, lightly tickling my exposed skin. I was still more than annoyed with him, but I couldn’t see a way out of this and I couldn’t stop my body from reacting to his touch, my heart rate jumping and my skin tingling under his fingers. The man just did something to me.  
I defiantly stared into the mirror straight ahead of me, watching as he bowed his head over my shoulder, some of the green strands of hair falling about of place and cascading over his forehead so they brushed and tickled me. He planted an unusually soft, lingering kiss on my skin, the breath from his mouth sending unwanted shivers down my back and I was quickly forgetting my anger at him, too lost in his movements, enthralled in what he would do next, my eyelids getting heavy and lazy with growing lust that I couldn’t find in me to beat down.  
Suddenly his eyes snapped up to meet mine in the reflection, two orbs of bright, fiery blue compared to my own dark, dull eyes.  
That’s when it seemed to hit me.  
This wasn’t right. This couldn’t last. Nothing in me could hold this man. I was nothing like him, nowhere even close to his league. This was nothing but my miserable imagination playing tricks and making me hope.  
I seized the moment, violently wrenching myself free from him - though only managing to do so because I took him by surprise – and then, before he could stop me again, I fled. I underestimated him however, and before I could even leave the bedroom, he had caught my arm, halting me and causing me to stumble back a step to balance myself.  
He tugged roughly at my arm, spinning me slightly so I was side on to him, his fingers digging unforgivingly into my flesh, “Do I need to pin you down, doll?!” He snarled at me, his teeth bared. I cowered until his fury, tears now freely flowing from my eyes now. What was going on? Surely, he wanted me to leave? So why had he stop me? Or was he not happy with me just leaving? Did he change his mind, decide it was better to just kill me rather than let me go?  
When I didn’t answer him it just seemed to frustrate him more and when I gave a weak tug at my arm in a pitiful attempt to escape he shoved me threw me roughly towards the bed so I fell against the cushiony mattress. He advanced towards me, his eyes clouded and deadly and I backed away, scooting backwards across the unmade duvet.  
He strode to the end of the bed, never taking his eyes off me, and grabbed my ankles, forming cold manacles with hands. I bit my lip to stop myself crying out as he dragged me back towards in one forceful movement that made me bounce ungracefully on the bed, it wasn’t like anyone in this manor was going to help me. My legs now hung off the edge of the bed either side of him and I tried to sit up but he lunged at me, grabbing my forearms and pinning me back against the duvet, his body weight anchoring me in place.  
“Now, doll....” He breathed heavily, not panting from the fighting with me, but from the exertion of holding back his temper. “Do we have a problem?” He asked, trying to keep himself calm for my sake.  
I had two options. I could lie here and cry or I could fight back. I was going to die either way.  
“We, don’t.” I snapped back, “I do. And that problem is you.” I glared at him darkly. How could I fall for such an impertinent man, manipulating, cruel man? But even as I questioned myself I could feel his pelvis slightly rocking against mine, his breath against my face and his scent intoxicating me. I knew why.  
“And what, princess,” He drawled sly, raising one invisible eyebrow at me, “is the problem?”  
“That you’re going to kill me.” I stated bluntly.  
“I don’t remember promising that luxury.” He purred, the anger flashing in his eyes like I’d somehow managed to touch a sensitive subject there.  
“So, you’re just going to what? Chuck me out now and get on with your next obsession?!” I asked, unperturbed by the flashes of his temper.  
He seemed to study my face for a moment, his jaw clenched tight as though that was the only thing stopping him from snapping my neck, the muscles in his arms either side of me, pinning me down, were taunt and defined. “I’m not throwing you out, doll...” He muttered moodily and I all I could do was stare in confusion at his harden features.  
Ok, so he didn’t want to get rid of me right now. But I didn’t but it for a second that I would still be here by the weeks end, he would be sick of me by that point.  
But why should I wait around until he was done with me? This was my life and I would not be his toy to just pick up and put down whenever he wanted to. I couldn’t. It would hurt too much.  
“How long do I have to hang around until you get sick of me?!” I demanded, cursing myself when I heard my voice crack, “How long till you realised I'm used goods and go after something else?!” My tears were leaking down the side of my face without my permission now whether I wanted to act tough or not, I would have wiped them away, but my arms were still pinned by J.  
I closed my eyes, I didn’t want to see J’s face, not when I was being so weak. Why couldn’t I be like him and live in the moment, enjoy the time we had together and not ruin it by asking about tomorrow. But I knew I could never do that, it wasn’t me. As nice as it was that he didn’t currently plan to kill me, I still wasn’t the kind of girl for one-night stands or to be shared alongside anyone else he chose to go after. I couldn’t live like that. I’d rather he threw me out right now so I could move on as soon as possible, before my feelings for him dug me any deeper into this hole I was currently curled up in.  
Suddenly I felt lips on mine and I froze, having been too lost in my own mind to register what J was doing. I was too shocked to respond to the passionate kiss and I remained unmoving beneath him. I heard a deep, frustrated growl from above me, before J shoved himself angrily off me, leaving my body cool and exposed compared to the warmth of his body a moment ago.  
That hurt more. The fact he clearly couldn’t bear to be near me now.  
I didn’t want that to be our last kiss, our last contact, I hadn’t been able to enjoy it and I wanted to convey every emotion I was feeling for J into it, I wanted him to know how mixed I was feeling about all of this. Instead I had remained frozen. I wanted to curl up into the duvet and become one with the blankets. I could see the point in trying to live anymore, there was only pain waiting for me if I moved.  
Abruptly I was hauled unceremoniously to my feet, my mind barely registering the movement until I almost fell over. “Didn’t you hear me, doll? Get dressed.” Then I was pointed in the direction of the wardrobe and I felt J’s presence leave the room.  
This must be it. I had thought as I walked numbly into the large walk-in closet. The whole ‘pack your bags and get out’ moment. Only, I had no bags to pack. My only possessions were the clothes I’d had on my back when I’d arrived and I was pretty sure they had been shredded and burned by now.  
None the less I did as I was told, not really caring what I chose, just pulling on a simple pair of jeans and the baggiest t-shirt I could find – I needed comfort, not style, right now. I dug around for a practical looking bag – most of them clutches, small purses and completely unsuitable due to the number of rhinestones, or sparkles on them – but eventually I found something resembling a shoulder bag. I stuffed my phone and, though I knew it was a bad idea, J’s sweatpants and shirt that I had been using as pyjamas, into it. I knew the last thing I needed was anything that could be a reminder of him, but I also couldn’t bear the thought of never being able to fall asleep to the scent of him again.  
Once ready I left the room, silently bidding it farewell and heading down the corridor. I wasn’t sure where I was supposed to go, but I just kept walking, heading down the large staircase and into the main entranceway. There didn’t appear to be anyone around.  
Was I supposed to just leave? Walk out the door and find my own way back to my old flat? I wouldn’t put it past J, why would he care if it rained and I got soaked, if it took me all day and I hit the centre of Gotham at night, probably ending up getting mugged or worse.  
I sighed, already feeling exhausted. I glance around once more before I headed to the front door, opening it and stepping out.  
“Going somewhere, doll..?” I glanced over my shoulder to see J at the foot of the stairs, most likely having just come down from his office. He didn’t look angry anymore, but when he caught sight of my bag his eyes seemed to darken, even from this distance.  
He strode with long strides across the hallway to me so he was at my side in seconds, snatching my bag off my shoulder - me past the point of putting up much of a fight. He the bag open, surveying the contents and frowning in confusion as he grabbed the material of his sweatpants. Busted.  
And that was all he was doing. It hadn’t been a big dramatic love scene like the movies where the dream guy stops the damsel at the last minute, confessing his undying love and begging her to stay. In my overactive imaginative dreams.  
He’d just been checking to see if I’d stolen anything – that was smart actually – he had a lot of stuff in this house that would probably pay my rent for a few months if I’d pawned it off.  
I couldn’t fight him right now, I knew I’d lose anyway, so I let him have the bag, if it did still have my phone in it. I was past caring, I just wanted out. I turned my back on him and the mansion and strode out of the door, heading down the paved path to the roadside.  
A tiny part of me was let down when he didn’t try to stop me, but then, this was what he wanted wasn’t it? For me to go? Ok, he may have wanted me to hang around another night or two – and maybe I should be flattered about that? – but I doubted it affected him that much that I had left early, after all, he only had to find another club with another singer and the whole charade would start all over again. No. I should just be grateful to leave with my life.  
But even as I thought about that, I felt a traitorous tear slide down my cheek. I brushed it away angrily, I wasn’t going to waste anymore waterworks on that criminal. And that was all he was to me now, just the regular crime boss he had always been, a murderer, a lunatic and someone I should do everything in my power to stay away from.  
But still my mind had wandered back to that last kiss. Why couldn’t it have been more? Why had he even kissed me in the first place? I hadn’t seen it coming. Had it been a last-ditch attempt to trick me into staying? I couldn’t be sure. And I shouldn’t be thinking about it. I couldn’t think back on what had happened too much or else I would just play events round and round in my head till I drove myself mad.  
I carried on walking, emptying my mind because I couldn’t seem to think about anything but what I had left behind. Just then, an all too familiar engine roar sounded behind me. I would not look back. I would drown it out and keep walking. It no longer had anything to do with me. I reminded myself that I needed to do everything in my power to stay away from him, and turning around would not be doing that.  
The roar receded into a low grumble and I caught the purple paint out of the corner of my eye. I’d hoped he just happened to suddenly have urgent business that needed his attention and he would just race straight past me, but no. He was following me, the car now rolling along beside me, keeping pace with my attempt at fast strides.  
I would not look over. Eyes ahead or on the pavement, I told myself. I heard the window slide down directly next to me. No. Just keep walking. He wasn’t allowed to do this.  
“Doll…” Came the growl from my right.  
Nope.  
“You know, princess…” He drawled, irritated. “This wasn’t what I meant when I said we were going out…” I faltered slightly in my steps at this, though I still didn’t move my gaze from the horizon in front of me where Gotham sat nestled in dark cloud. When had he said that? It didn’t matter. That didn’t matter. He would still kick me out eventually anyway, no matter what he meant about today.  
I kept walking.  
I heard him growl darkly next to me, and I saw him roll his neck in annoyance out of the corner of my eye. “Get in the car, doll.” He growled at me.  
I didn’t even refuse him, I just ignored him, as though I couldn’t even hear him.  
I heard him snarl, though it was soon drowned out when he made the engine roar under his foot and I jumped at the noise, “Don’t make me threaten you, kitten...” He warned, “Get in the car.” He repeated clearly through clenched teeth. When, once more, I made no movement. He blew out a harsh breath, “I have a gun, princess… I was hoping to not have to use it…” He sneered.  
I took a few more steps before I stopped. Damn.  
I didn’t want to give in, but I also didn’t want to be riddled with bullets, and whatever J felt towards me was probably not enough to overcome the insanity in his head that made it ok to fire several rounds of bullets into a person’s body.  
I had to resign myself to the fact he had beaten me and I turned to face the purple Lamborghini that was now parked at the curb next to me.  
J smiled widely at my defeat, but it didn’t seem to reach his eyes that remained hard with a lingering darkness that warned I was on thin ice with his temper. That didn’t stop me rolling my eyes and scowling at him.  
He must have then hit a button somewhere in the car, because the passenger door to the Lamborghini lifted open on the opposite side of the car. I eyed it warily, trying to think of any way I could not get in the car but when my eyes dropped back to J I noticed he had now removed his gun from its holster and was causally resting the barrel on the open window, the gun pointing directly at an angle slightly so a shot now would hit my leg. “Get in, doll.” He said calmly with a smile that knew I had no other choice.  
I scowled at him again, but did what he said, trudging around the bonnet of the sports car and slipping into the leather seat next to him, refusing to look at him, instead choosing to stare grumpily out the passenger window once the door had closed behind me.  
Ok, so he clearly hadn’t wanted me to leave when I did, but so what? Why couldn’t he just let me leave? And was this his game now? To hold me against my will until he was done with me? That was sick.  
Though I couldn’t deny the small little happiness I felt at being back with him for a little longer. I was messed up.  
What I didn’t realise until we had driven for a short while, was that J hadn’t turned around, and he didn’t seem to be heading back to the manor house. Where were we going?  
I couldn’t help but glance over at him, his eyes were on the road, but he must have felt my gaze because his eyes then met mine and I quickly looked away, caught in the act. Shit.  
“Where are we going?” I asked eventually, though I now kept my gaze out the passenger window. I needed to know.  
“I told you we were going out.” He answered simply as if that was all I needed to know. It was very ominous.  
“Where?” I persisted. Why wouldn’t he tell me.  
He didn’t say anything.  
I scowled at him, “What is it with you and all these secrets?!” I demanded, losing my temper. “You never explain anything! You wouldn’t tell me where we’re going, you won’t tell me whether you’re getting rid of me, you wouldn’t tell what we were supposed to be doing last night, you won’t tell me what’s going on with this bloody ‘bet’!” I listed off in anger, my chest heaving. “I never know where I stand with you, you just expect me to nod along and do what you tell me to!” I cried, “Well, I’ve got news for you! I am not your ‘doll’! No matter how much you call me it!”  
He didn’t say anything for a moment, and I thought he was just going to ignore me again but then his eyes snapped to mine, they were cold and hard like orbs of ice, and he seemed to be weighing me up. Now my anger was ebbing I was realising I might have just pushed him over his invisible temper boundary, had I gone too far this time? Was he trying to figure out the best bullet to put through my heart? I wanted him to yell at me, scream at me, hit me. This threatening silence was far worse.  
Finally, he returned his eyes to the road, breaking whatever connection had been holding my gaze to his, but I continued to watch his face, waiting for something. “Last night,” J started, “Was a little test, doll.” He growled, “I saw a little bit -,” he pinched his fingers together, his voice coming high and it felt like he was mocking me, “- of the real you that night you shot one of my men.“ He said, lifting a hand from the wheel and gesturing with it as he spoke, creating his usual dramatic hand gestures. “And it…” He searched for the word, “Intrigued me.” He chose, “I wanted to see it again. That little deadly side.” He grinned menacingly.  
I froze. Wait, but last night I was just supposed to be lookout for J alongside Frost. How could I have shown that side of me if no one was expected to come to the warehouse? Hadn’t the Penguin kidnapping been a surprise? Had it? “Did you set up the Penguin last night?” I asked carefully, my voice wobbling.  
He laughed, a short sharp laugh, “Oh no, kitten! if you hadn’t shown up I would have been dead!” He laughed as though this was the most hysterical thing in the world. “Ol’ Frosty was too busy clocking out Penguin’s men outside.” He told me, “Work out nicely though, didn’t doll?” He grinned.  
I raised my eyebrow at his humour. I had to wonder what he had been planning to do instead to test me, but I didn’t feel like it mattered anymore.  
The car fell into silence again, after J’s giggles had subsided, and I couldn’t help my mind turning to the questions he hadn’t answered. What had this bet been all along and what was it now, and where were we going?  
I didn’t press him further though, resigning myself to the fact at least I got some answers from him for once, I doubted he would shed any more light on my confusion. I felt like I’d had my allotted amount of truth for the day.  
I watched as we entered the city, the skyscrapers and shops rushing past the windows, allowing myself to enjoy the ride, the speed filling me with adrenaline and endorphins. We drove into a part of Gotham that was just outside of the centre and I had to think for a moment why it was so familiar to me. Then it hit me and I sat up at bit straighter.  
I thought I caught J glance at me out of the corner of his eye, smirk at the road and then he hit the gas, the speed pushing me against the back of my seat. My heart was pounding in my chest, not because of the speed we rushed through the quiet streets, but because of where we were. Why were we here?  
Suddenly we skidded to a halt. The street was empty, as it always used to be at this time of day – there was nothing out this way for a shopper. The building I could see outside my window was the same as it always used to look, a dark imposing warehouse with office blocks lining either side.  
J was already out of driver’s seat and opening my door. I slipped out of the car, not truly feeling my limbs, but knowing they were shaking under my weight.  
Was this a sick joke of his?  
I didn’t want to turn around. I avoided this part of town for a reason. I didn’t want to look at the destruction I had caused to the only link I had to my family. I had torn the picture up for a reason. It had been a painful reminder that held me to the past. A past I couldn’t get back.  
I couldn’t bear to look at J. He was cruel for bringing me here. He stood by the bonnet waiting now, “This way, doll.” He grinned, gesturing like a gentleman for me to go ahead. I didn’t move. I didn’t want to go that way.  
When he saw that, once again, I was refusing an instruction of his, his hand when in his jacket, landing on his gun holster. My eyes shot straight to it in alarm. “Don’t make me, princess.” He warned with a dark smile.  
I took a step forward and he seemed content with that. I followed after him, around the car, screwing my eyes shut when I knew I was facing it. I didn’t want to look.  
I felt the J stop and I did the same. “Open your eyes, doll...” He murmured behind me and I could hear the sinister grin in his voice.  
“I can’t.” I whimpered, covering my already tightly closed eyes with the palms of my hands, the image already painting itself in my mind’s eye.  
“Trust me.” He purred at my ear, the voice sounding like anything but something I should trust. I felt his cold hands at my wrists, pulling them away. “Just this once?” He begged mockingly. I didn’t fight him, letting my arms drop limply to my side. I don’t know what did it, maybe I was sick of hiding away from it, maybe my eyes hurt too much, maybe it was the fact I thought I had heard something almost soft in his voice. But I opened my eyes.  
I honestly thought I was hallucinating.  
There in, all its original glory, was my club exactly how it had stood all those months ago before I had destroyed it, before J had turned up in my life. The same bricks, and pillars, the same lights, the same sign. Everything.  
“No.” I whispered in awe. Was this the ultimate joke?  
J strode past me then, straight to the front door and walked straight into the club, confirming to my bewildered my mind that I couldn’t possibly be staring at a mirage. I followed after him a few moments later.  
The inside was the same as I remembered as well - expect maybe slightly better looked after as the wallpaper was no longer peeling in the corners and carpet underfoot was cleaner than I’d seen it in a long time. But it was the exact same carpet that must have gone up in flames and dust.  
I couldn’t see J anywhere, so I took myself around the club, staring into every nook and cranny, trying to find a fault or the punch line to the joke.  
I walked into the main dance floor and bar area, gawking at the place, feeling like I’d stepped back into my memories. I saw movement out of the corner of my eye and I turned, hoping to see J, but it was Frost, waiting to the side of the dance floor.  
I wandered towards him, hoping he could she a bit of light on what on Earth this all was.  
“Frost…” I began, still glancing around the room, “What is this place?”  
Frost looked around with me, taking it in himself, “Boss’s way of showing he cares, I guess.” Shrugged Frost. My head snapped back round to face him.  
“What?” I asked, “How?” Single words were all I could manage, my mind still trying to drink it all in.  
“We salvaged what we could from the wreckage, coupled with a lot of research,” said Frost, strolling around the room, admiring his handiwork, “and we managed to determine everything exactly as it was before the explosions.” He told me, “J refused anything less than exactly right.”  
I followed after him as we continued to walk around the entire club. Everything was the same, every piece of architecture an exact match, the same dance floor, same bar, same stage, same dressing room, same office that J had taken over, same booths, same storage rooms, same old classic posters from bands that had played over 10 or 20 years ago, same lighting. The only thing that was different was one picture that I hadn’t even noticed when I first entered the club, it stood framed in an old-fashioned frame directly in front of you as you stepped in through the entrance. My picture of the club I had torn up back at my flat.  
I stood staring in confusion, Frost stood behind me as I took it in, my heart hurting. “How?” I asked, tears prickling my eyes again as I stared at the old, tattered and creased picture now proudly framed in front of me. “I tore it up.”  
“You tore up a replica.” Frost told me. I looked at him in confusion, not understanding. “Boss sent me to retrieve it from that old farmhouse.” He explained, “Then we replicated it, keeping the original to use as a reference to this,” he gestured vaguely to the club, “you got the replica – which you promptly tore up.” He reminded me. I smirked at this, able to laugh now I knew that it was a fake.  
We stood in silence for a little longer, me continuing to stare at the picture, still trying to find a flaw in it to prove it couldn’t be real.  
“Where’s J?” I asked eventually. Frost shrugged. I didn’t know what I expected really.  
I headed back outside, finding I needed some fresh air to help me process this, still panicking I was about to wake up and have my heart broken.  
None of this made sense. J couldn’t be this kind hearted. He was the Joker. He was a clinically insane mass murdering psychopath. This didn’t fit him in slightest. Why go through all this trouble and money – because it would have been a heck of a lot of money and trouble - to completely recreate my club from scratch, every detail meticulous to the original.  
I sat myself down on the curb by a drain, not caring how filthy the street was beneath me, or how damp the tarmac was. I put my head in my hands, breathing in the dirty city air evenly. If I looked around now it would all be gone, was my imagination really that good? Could I even remember that much detail?  
“Is there a reason, doll…” J growled from behind me, “Why you’re sat in the gutter…?”  
I wiped at my eyes, pushing myself to my feet and dusting myself off.  
I didn’t say anything, stepping back up onto the pavement walking towards J, my head down. I couldn’t look at him, I’d break down. I stopped in front of him, bringing my head up only enough that I looked directly in front of me, my eye line level with his throat. I lifted my hands, fiddling with the already perfectly folded jacket collar.  
“Dol-“ J started, probably about to mock me, but before he could even begin I grabbed the lapels of his jacket and pulled him to me, kissing him with every emotion I had wanted to last time, and all the new ones coursing through me now. J, as always, was quick to make the most of it, kissing me back just as passionately, his hands gripping at my hips and pulling me closer.  
It was the first time I had ever initiated a kiss between us. But I was going to make damn sure it wasn’t the last. I could help myself smiling against his lips.  
“I win, doll.” J murmured into my lips.  
“What do you mean?” I asked, gasping.  
“The bet is over…” He breathed, his mouth now moving to my jaw, “And I, personally have managed several new high scores thanks to last night…” He teased and I could feel the grin on his lips against my skin. I couldn’t help but chuckle lightly at this and I felt J’s grin spread even wider.  
“So what do you win?” I asked him, tilting my head to the side as his lips found the sensitive area of my neck again. I had to fight back a moan, but there was still a lingering concern in my mind, what did he win?  
“You, doll…” He growled seductively, “Forever…” He purred against my throat before his lip found mine again. I couldn’t help myself, grinning into the kiss, I’d never felt so happy – that was until I felt J grin back against my lips.


	51. Christmassy Epilogue Thing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, guys, long time, no chat! So, I've been doing a Christmas Fan Fiction Advent Calendar for the last 23 days and I decided to do a little throwback to Deadly Voice for Day 23, and I thought I'd post it here in case anyone else wanted to read it!
> 
> I'm not sure the characters are that 'in-character', but I haven't written DV for a long time, and it is 1am.... but I hope you like it anyway. It's a bit random... but oh well...

This was my first Christmas with J. I’d been with him for nearly 6 months now and I still couldn’t quite believe it. My club was thriving like it always had – and even more now thanks to a few odd inputs from J. I didn’t do everything he said – I didn’t want to give him that much power – but some of them were too good for me to turn down.  
Our relationship was thriving too. There were a few odd things that J would do that reminded me that he was still the Joker – the insane criminal escapee from Arkham Asylum - but most of the time he treated me like the princess he often called me. I never knew how much I had wanted it till now – I couldn’t imagine not having J around - as hard as it had been to accept that he could possibly like me in the first place – that he could possibly be capable of love.  
Because that’s what I was sure it was now – love. He had never said it to me, but I knew I loved him and I kinda hoped he loved me back – and I figured he did – he just wasn’t one to say it.   
Something he didn’t seem to love though, was Christmas. Which was understandable – he was a crime lord and a gangster – loving Christmas didn’t really go with that package - but it did disappoint me just because I adored the festive season.  
I didn’t complain though – he had the right to hate the holiday if he wanted to, and I didn’t push him to do anything he didn’t want to – so we compromised, he’d refused to go out and do anything Christmassy, but he’d happily let me snuggle into his chest whilst we watch Christmas movies, and he even helped me decorate the club – after hours when it was empty, of course.  
J had one rule for the decorating though. He was allowed as much mistletoe as he deemed fit and was allowed to decide where it went around the club and mansion. I didn’t have any problem with this – though it certainly was distracting to keep finding J’s lips on mine – a distraction I didn’t mind, but it never finished with only a kiss and it sure did waste a lot of my time.

“Doll…” J drawled in greeting stepping into my office where I sat writing Christmas cards for the staff.  
“J…” I mimicked him, glancing up and seeing him prowl towards me. I glanced around – there wasn’t any mistletoe around that I had missed, was there? - I thought I’d made sure there wasn’t any in here. “What…?” I asked warily at the way he was looking at me.  
“Oh, nothing, doll…” He purred, perching on the side of my desk and watching me.   
This was disconcerting, and I put my pen down, properly facing him. “What do you want, J?” I asked in exasperation at his allusiveness.  
He looked around in fake shock, his hand to his red lips. “Can’t a guy just pay his girl a visit at her work, doll?” he asked innocently.  
“He can.” I enthused, “But, he usually doesn’t unless he wants something.” I pointed out.  
He dropped his charade, now a bored expression on his face. “Alright, princess, you got me.” He surrendered. “We’re going out.” There was no question of if I wanted to, if I had time, if I could leave my work - it was just we were going out.  
“Right now?” I asked in surprise.  
He shot me a look which clearly said why-would-you-even-ask-that. I rolled my eyes at him. “J, I’m working.” I said, gesturing to cards laid out before me.  
He growled, “I’d hardly call that work, doll….” I sighed loudly at his behaviour. As much as I loved his spontaneity, it did get in the way of my work sometimes.  
“J, I can’t, I’ve got so much-“  
“I’m asking nicely, doll.” He growled, and I stopped. He wasn’t going to play his big bad criminal card, was he? Ridiculous. He did this – depending on his mood - one minute he’d be professing how’d he never hurt me, the next he’d be threatening me if I didn’t do what he wanted. The problem was I still wasn’t wholly sure which side to believe.  
I had found a way around this out of pure experimentation, though. I stood up smoothly from my chair and moving around the desk, and stepped behind him, leaning into his back and wrapping my arms over his shoulders and round his necks, pulling him back into me and resting my cheek against his. “Better?” I asked.  
He grumbled something but gave a slight nod against my skin. I turned my head and kissed his cheek, but he wasn’t letting me off that easy and turned his head, meeting my lips with his. It didn’t take long for me to get lost in his taste and the movement of his mouth on mine. My last coherent though was whether I was sure there was no mistletoe in the room.  
Eventually I pulled away for air and he was smiling sinfully at my flushed face.   
“Ok, what do you really want?” I panted, my arms still around his shoulders.  
“Like I said, kitten…” He purred, “I want us to go out…Although…” He tapped his chin thoughtfully and leant towards me again, his face inches from my, though this time he made sure his lips didn’t quite touch mine, “Now we’ve started… I wouldn’t mind staying in…” He growled seductively, his breath brushing against my lips and I licked them self-consciously.  
“Uh, uh!” I said, coming back to myself and pulling away. “Nope. Not going to happen. You don’t get a reward for being an ass.”  
“So, we’re calling it a reward now are we, doll…?” He grinned devilishly. “And just who’s reward would it be?” He asked with a sly look, “Because I’m pretty sure you enjoy it too, princess…”  
I could feel myself blush. “That’s not my point.” I said quickly. “Why do you want to go out so badly anyway?” I asked trying to change the subject.  
The Joker eyed me for a moment, knowing what I was trying to do, but let it slide anyway. “Because, doll, all this Christmas cheer is slowly driving me insane.” He growled.  
I opened my mouth to comment on his general insanity anyway, but he shot me glare that told he knew what I was going to say, and I shouldn’t. I bit my lip to stop myself laughing.   
He raised an eyebrow at me, unimpressed – though I knew he didn’t really mean it. I swallowed my humour. “So, you think going out is going to do something about all this ‘suffocating’ Christmas cheer?” I asked disbelievingly.   
He suddenly gave me a wide grin as though I had asked exactly the right question. “No, doll… I think causing some trouble is…” He beamed.  
Uh oh. Ever since the whole Penguin incidence all those months ago, J had rarely invited me to any of his ‘trouble making sessions’ as I often referred to them. I generally ignored it when he vanished for the night as long as he was there in the morning. I did find myself worrying if he’d come back this time, or if he was getting injured, but I’d tried not to think about what he was doing. That was him and his life and there was nothing I could do to change it.  
But I didn’t participate. I’d made it a rule. We’d cause trouble sometimes – low key trouble – but I’d never go as far as a heist or anything that far outside of the law. It was hard to be good around J, he just brought out the rebellious side of you.  
I pulled away from his back and swung around to face him, my arms still wrapped around his neck. “Really?” I asked, unenthusiastically, “At Christmas?”  
“That’s the whole reason I want to do it, doll.”  
I looked at him, really not sure about this. “Can’t you just go cause trouble on your own?” I asked, desperately.  
He stood up, my arms still hung around him. “Now, doll…” He said seriously, putting his hands on my hips and pulling me closer. He bent his head, trailing his lips along my jaw, then brushing them lightly against my lips, “What fun would that be, hmm?” He breathed against my mouth. I had closed my eyes at the sensation, but I forced them open again now to try to bring myself back to Earth.  
I released my arms from around his neck and stepped back, though he kept a firm hold on my hips. “What is this going to entail?” I asked suspiciously, feeling my resolve crumbling.  
He grinned at me, “I was just going to roll with it.” He said with a shrug.  
I’m still not sure how we ended up in the giant toy store, but here we were. I had no idea what J planned – despite what he about rolling with, I was almost certain he had some idea why we were here – but he dragged me after him into the huge department-store-sized toy-shop, causing a few people to scream and make a run for the exit behind us.  
I tried to tell him before we left that he ought to disguise himself as he had insisted on doing this in the middle of the day, but he had outright refused, “Come on, kitten, now that wouldn’t be any fun!” He had grinned at my attempt of logic. That was always his response when I tried to talk sense into any of his plans – ‘Where was the fun in it?’ Personally, I wasn’t looking at the fun side of it, I was looking at the practical, try-not-to-get-caught, side of it.   
But now as people screamed and shouted as they ran past us I couldn’t help thinking this was all going to end in disaster – J might know his capabilities to escape, but did he know how much I was going to weigh him down? I was starting to panic and really wished I hadn’t agreed to this.  
The Joker towed me towards the back of the shop. “What about security cameras, J?” I asked, anxiously.  
“It’ll be fine, doll.” He muttered back.  
“But, J, unlike you – I don’t have a criminal record – and I have the reputation for my business to uphold.” I said desperately, pulling on the hand that was dragging me along.  
He glanced back at me, “Fine, I’ll deal with them later.” He relented, “but – for the record doll,” he murmured into my ear, “a bad reputation might do your business some good.” He grinned. Yes, I remembered this suggestion from a few months ago when he tried to convince me to join him on another one of his trouble-making schemes. I had told him then that my club was doing extremely well with my reputation as it was and turned his offer down flat, despite his persuasive methods. So why had I given in this time? I guess because it was Christmas?  
J continued to drag me along, but now he had reassured me about the security cameras, I decided I would stop trying to resist him and walk with a bit more confidence behind him.  
“What are we doing?” I asked, almost giddy when he finally pulled me to a stop near the back of the shop, next to a huge pile of teddy bears – the adrenaline and excitement of what might happen was starting to build up within me.  
“Whatever you want, princess!” J cried recklessly, his madness shining through his wide grin. I couldn’t help laughing – his energy infectious.  
So, we did whatever we wanted.   
It was nice to let go and be a bit rebellious – even felt healthy. J ran up one of the aisles and grabbed a baseball bat, tossing balls up in the air and cracking them down the aisle so I had to dive behind the end shelves to avoid them. He swung crazily, missing a few, but sending most of them soaring across the store - I’m pretty sure he broke a window.  
After he became bored of that, I followed J as he ran off to another row of shelves a few aisles down which was full of dolls. “Did you ever play with dolls, doll?” J asked, turning to me.  
I smirked at his joke, but I nodded, watching him with intrigue as to what he was going to do now. He grinned at my answer and scoped up a pristine doll in its casing. “You can do the honours then, kitten.” He grinned, handing over the doll. I took it from him, but frowned at it in confusion.  
“What am I supposed to do with it?” I asked lamely.  
“What ever you like, doll.” J said lazily, grinning like the mad man he was. I looked at the doll for a while, thinking and studying the packaging and the toy within. It wasn’t exactly like what I used to have when I was younger, but it was similar enough to do. I ripped open the packaging and pulled the doll out and, without hesitation, I wrenched the head of the doll, creating a satisfying pop.  
Take that all those bloody girl stereotypes forced down my throat when I was a kid.  
The Joker burst into laughter at the result of my fury, soon following my suit and ripping apart other dolls alongside me. I was soon grinning wildly at the sheer freedom of the destruction.  
When a pile of headless dolls was left on the floor we ran off to another aisle. As we ran, J grabbed a big barrel of marbles and sent it spinning down an isle on our right. As I ran past, I glanced down the aisle and saw two security guard’s feet sliding out from underneath them as they stepped on the tiny smooth balls. I couldn’t help but laugh at the site, giddy with the adrenaline and recklessness mixing within me.  
J took a sharp turn to the left again after another few aisles and I skidded to a halt next to him where he stood before racks on racks of children’s bikes all of varying size and colour. We weren’t alone in this aisle, some children and parents surveying the choice, but they immediately looked up when we had careened around the corner, and as soon as they recognised the familiar pale skin and green hair they fled the opposite direction.  
J didn’t take any notice of this, hauling off a bike from one of the racks. “Choose your weapon, doll.” He grinned over at me as he lifted down a tiny tricycle. I grinned back and stared at my options for a while till I grabbed a bright yellow bike with go faster flames. I struggled to lift it off, but managed to wrestle it down and followed after J who truly looked like a clown on the tiny bike, his knees up around his chin.  
We cycled down several lanes of shelves until J suddenly he skipped to a stop in front of me near the end of the isle, listening to something. I stopped next to him, watching his intense face, but I couldn’t hear anything. Suddenly there was a thud behind us like something heavy falling to the floor and I glanced behind us where I thought it had come from, but I saw nothing.  
That didn’t reassure me.   
“Come on, doll.” J was suddenly off his bike and at my side with a wild grin, “We’ve got to go.” He grabbed my hand and tugged me down the aisle. We ran to the front door, but someone had locked and barred it to stop out escape. Shit.  
I heard another noise – like something flapping behind us and spun around, searching for something that could make that noise. Nothing again. This was starting to feel like a horror movie and I was glad J was still holding on to me. I could feel everything in me tense and my heart was in my throat, beating rapidly.  
“J…?” I asked, scared and gripping his hand tightly, my high from a few seconds ago now long gone.  
J didn’t say anything, but reached into the pocket of his jacket and threw something up onto the top of the aisle where I thought I had saw a flash of movement a moment ago. It clanked when it bounced and then emitted a puff of purple smoke which expanded. Before I had time to watch the effect, J had pulled me away back down an aisle, dashing through the now-heavy fog which was settling around.  
We wove in and out of isles, clearly trying to avoid someone or something. I was out of breath, but I didn’t dare to falter or slow. Suddenly J pulled me to a stop close to him and pressed tightly to a shelving unit of Lego toys. “Do you still have your gun on you, doll?” He demanded.  
I pulled it out of my pocket to show him - I had taken it down from its proud position on the wall of the club where it usually hung, to bring with me – just in case. “Good girl. We might need it.” He grinned, though he didn’t look as relaxed as he was earlier. The fact that he had asked for the gun didn’t comfort me in the slightest and I checked that it was loaded, and the safety still on.  
J peered round the end of the aisle, looking both ways until his gaze stopped on something. “Come on, doll.” He growled, tugging me forward again. We headed for the far-left hand side of the store where people hadn’t realised what was going on in the rest of the store. Over head a large sign read SANTA’S GROTTO.  
We approached an area that was sectioned off with a red rope wrapped in golden tinsel, behind which a line of kids wove snake like back and forth, leading into a plastic gingerbread house with a banner over the door declaring it to be ‘Santa’s Grotto’. J pulled me around the back of the building, making sure to stay out of sight this time.  
I don’t know how J knew the back of that little plastic house wouldn’t be yet another wall of plastic, but instead it was made of a black background curtain. J led me up to a parting in it and I watched as he peered through to the scene inside. He waited a few moments, whilst I remained silent beside him, my heart still racing and far too loud. He must have seen something he had been waiting for because he suddenly disappeared inside, releasing my hand and leaving me outside without a signal, so I thought it best to remain outside where he had left me.  
J reappeared a few minutes later a pile of fabric in his arms.   
“What on Earth are you doing?” I hissed.  
“Get dressed.” Was all he said, shoving the material at me.  
“What are you on about?!” I demanded but took the clothes anyway, looking at the green material in confusion.  
“Run with it doll – fun, remember?” He said with a grin, lifting his pile of clothes into the air which looked to be predominantly red.   
I didn’t like where this was going.

It turned out that J had waited until the next child had left their meeting with Santa, and had then snuck in and held both Santa and his helper at gun point requiring them to hand over their costumes or else.   
So now me and J were in said costumes, and doing our best to fulfil our roles, however - despite J’s usually smiley personality - he didn’t seem to be relishing his role.  
“You’re supposed to be jolly.” I whispered at him as the next child climbed into his lap. He shot me a dark look at this and I couldn’t help but grin back at him.  
He asked the kids the question of what they wanted like I told him to, but his answers were less than enthusiastic and often quite cynical. I had to hold back my giggles – seeing him like that was hilarious and I wish I could take a picture - but I wasn’t sure he’d be particularly happy about that.  
We’d probably had about 6 children visit us before the small doorway to the gingerbread house was shrouded in darkness. I felt myself cower away from the sudden looming figure that cast a shadow over the cheerful environment. When I glanced out of the corner of my eye at J, he looked completely unaffected, like he hadn’t even noticed the new presence.  
I didn’t know what the dark figure was for a moment, until it stepped into the light and I saw the tipped cowl and the plated armour. The allusive Dark Knight.  
I felt my throat close up. It all made sense to me now and I just hoped J’s disguise fooled the bat. Somehow, during our run to the grotto, J had manged to make sure we ran past the dress-up section of the store and had slipped some tacky make-up and false lenses into his pocket. Once dressed, we had rapidly applied it in an attempt to tan his skin as much as we could, and the lenses had now turned his usual icy blue eyes to a warm hazel. I hoped it would be enough as the beard covered most of his face anyway and any trace of green hair was hidden under the white wig which was attached to the Santa hat.  
I watched the Batman, barely blinking. His eyes scanned over me, but saw nothing of interest and he moved onto J, who still had a young girl sat on his lap. He was joking with her and hohoho-ing away with the little girl who was thankfully laughing as he bounced her on his knee. He looked nothing like my J.  
The Dark knight stopped directly in front of them and J’s smile fell from his face like any normal person. He stopped bouncing the girl and eyed the man in awe. God, he was a good actor. The little girl turned to see where Santa was looking, and her eyes widened in fear at the shadowy figure and she looked like she was about to cry. The Knight lingered only a moment longer before he moved on from the house.  
I breathed a sigh of relief and immediately wanted to go to J, but when I met his eyes, they told me not to. We carried on with charade for the next few children who J tried his best with. Finally, he seemed content that he was safe, and he sent the last child packing, ripping the hat and beard from his face as soon as the door had closed on them.  
I let out a shaky, quiet laugh and let myself slide onto the floor, my legs too weak to hold me up any longer. “I am never doing that again.” I breathed at the floor, my head in my hands.  
The Joker let out a laugh at the site of me having a minor panic attack on the floor and I shot him a death glare. J rubbed at the makeup on his face with the Santa hat still in his hands, removing most of it, though he still had some orange smudges around his jaw and eyes. He shed the rest of the oversized Santa costume, still in his shirt and trousers underneath. Unfortunately for me I had to completely change out of the elf outfit into my own clothes, thanks to it being so tight-fitting and I almost felt sorry for the girl J had robbed it from.   
“Why did you hide?” I asked suddenly, standing upright after pulling on my last show. It had been bugging me and I had to ask. J turned to me, halfway through removing the contact lenses in his eyes so he had one brown and one blue iris.   
“What, doll?” He asked.  
“The Batman.” I clarified, “Don’t you usually play with him - toy with him – try to one up him in a sudden confrontation?” I tried to explain.  
“Usually.” He muttered, uninterested.   
“So, why didn’t you just then?” I asked, “You had a perfect opportunity!”  
“Because you were a few metres away, doll.” He growled as those this was an obvious explanation. I frowned at him and he sighed. “Batsy has one rule only. He can’t bring himself to kill – but he will do everything else – including using you, kitten.” J told me stepping up to me with his mis-matched eyes. I looked into his face and it looked vulnerable like I hadn’t seen it for ages.   
“I know I can get hurt doll, and I know I can get away…” He growled darkly, “But I don’t know that I can get you out, and I definitely can’t see you hurt or taken away from me…” He snarled fiercely down at his hands which he clenched into fists around the Santa Hat he still held. I could almost see him picturing it in his mind. It both filled me with love that he felt that much about my welfare, but also hurt me that he was feeling that much pain over me.   
I stepped forward, closing the distance between us and reaching for his fists, cupping my hands over them. “Hey.” I said, and I noticed J look up at me, though I kept my eyes on our hands together. “I’m not going anywhere,” I said, lifting my gaze to his. “I promise.” I said looking directly into his odd eyes.  
The Joker’s face erupted into a large grin and he dropped the hat, grabbing something from inside. A piece of mistletoe. He held it over our heads and I laughed at him and how ridiculous he was. He grinned sinfully, then tossed the mistletoe behind him, grabbing my face with both hands and brought my lips crushing down on his in an urgent kiss. I opened my mouth in a gasp and he made the most of this, deepening the kiss. He kept one hand on my face, the other slid down my body, pulling me close so I my entire body was pressed up the length of his.  
I finally pulled back for air. “Sure you don’t want to do that again, doll?” He grinned.  
“Certain.” I said firmly, but the kiss seemed to have swept most of my worries awayI smiled at his grin. “Can we go back to Christmas spirit again, please?” I begged, picking up the Santa hat and handing it back to him. “It seems safer.”  
He looked at the hat and then back to me, “How about just normal, kitten? I think I’ve had enough of Santa.” He growled, pushing my hand down.  
I smiled. “Deal.” I said, dropping the hat and pulling him back into a kiss.


End file.
